


Across Universes

by Subatomic_grape



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: AU-gust 2020, Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, More video game fusion AUs than you can shake a stick at, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE EMM, Romance, assorted one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 108,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subatomic_grape/pseuds/Subatomic_grape
Summary: No matter the world or life, they will always meet again.  Chrom, Robin, and 31 Days of AUs.
Relationships: Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 54
Kudos: 107
Collections: AUgust 2020





	1. Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing like seeing an AU event list and knowing in your heart you have to write every single prompt with a Chrobin twist. There will be some smutty content in some prompts, but they will be warned at the summary/start of each chapter. And I'll be taking a quick one month break from Lost to the Waves while I do this odd experimental fanfic-jazz AU thing. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and onto the first AU! (Aka, the Fire Emblem: Awakening/Twilight Princess/Ladyhawke fusion AU absolutely no one asked for.)

This world is a strange shadow, a twisting of the world and home he knows… And his form has shifted to match it.

He risks cutting his tongue on fangs, and his lips curl to show them in frustration. The shadows of this place twist around him and scramble his new senses, motes of black dancing like ash in front of him. Those motes drift upwards, through a world of all washed out colors and a strange sky that glows overhead like it's been set aflame.

There's still shivers running through him, where the transformation gripped him in savage teeth, and didn't let him go until he'd been completely changed.

If he ever makes it out of this, if the shadows ever give way to daylight, and he loses the fur and claws, Chrom swears he'll never take thumbs or walking on two feet for granted, ever again. His body still feels rough around the edges, and some of the wildness of this shape feels like it's spilling into his brain; making him more feral, ready to snap and lash out-

Chrom takes a deep breath through his snout, trying to center himself and above all else keep his thoughts HUMAN. Not a wolf's, no matter how tempting it is to let a more savage side take over-

A flash of white interrupts his thoughts, as a strange silver-white hawk dips out from the sky. His ears pin back as he watches the bird swoop in and out of the branches. It gives a faint piping noise, and pulls him forward.

The hawk has been his closest thing to a guide, ever since he stumbled into this place. He'd first seen it flitting through the black and gold forest, like a shard of silver fire had escaped from the sky. It had been the one bright and vibrant, living part in this shadowed world. And this hawk seems to know where it wishes them both to go, constantly swooping back to try and get him to move. And strange as this place is, he prefers not having to face it alone-

Particularly not when strange black shapes skate along the ground after him, half phantasm and half spider with their long, razor tipped tendrils. One lashes out at him, trying to lay open his foreleg, and he barely manages to dart away. The claw lashes at him, the wake of its attack almost cutting his fur and the skin underneath it.

The monster… Doesn't look RIGHT. It's not something he'd ever see in the normal world, where the sky doesn't burn and the shadows stay where they belong. It's a mass of writhing limbs, joined by crowds of other shadows to form a blanket of hissing blackness moving over the wilderness.

There's a hint of scarlet eyes glaring up at him. Full of rage, making Chrom bristle in response.

It's instinct that makes him lash out, hook his fangs into the shadow, and shake it until it breaks apart. Chrom chokes back a sick feeling in the back of his throat, dropping the dead thing and bracing for the next.

Something moves in the corner of his eyes, a new shadow monster rushing in too close for him to dodge, ready to hook claws into him-

But if the monster is focused on him, then it doesn't see the hawk angling out of the gloom. Its claws stretch out, eight dagger points that all hook into the monster's skull. It's wrenched away from Chrom, expiring with a shrill cry.

More of the beasts try to close and overwhelm the hawk, now that it's on the ground. Chrom throws himself into them, snarling, laying in with tooth and claw and driving them back… Or at least, driving back those that don't break apart between his jaws.

The hawk takes back to the air, and the taste of strange shadowed blood sends Chrom into a frenzy. Together they scythe into the monsters, until only one is left, scurrying away before Chrom can give chase-

Instead, he glimpses the hawk diving on the remaining creature and shredding it under talons. The monsters fade away between the two of them… And with them, the strange, twisted world also fades out, replaced with a familiar, bright forest.

Chrom lets out a gasp in surprise, and realizes he can't feel or hear a growl in his throat. He reaches up to his neck, and feels hands and fingers brush against his skin.

"I'm… Human again?" He whispers, his voice rough from not being used.

"…Gods, but I missed being able to stand on two feet, and having fingers instead of feathers." Comes a new voice, making him bolt upright. He finds that he isn't alone in the forest clearing; someone clad in dark robes stands over him, slowly pushing a hood away from her head.

Her hair is a match for those silvery wings he'd glimpsed, and he can still see a few feathers caught in the strands.

"So you're the prince that wandered into the Twilight Realm." She tells Chrom.

"Wandered-?" Chrom sputters out. While his thoughts are a roil, much like his skin's constant twitching… He can still remember a few of the details; and he's certain he didn't stumble into that world by pure chance.

Chrom tries to find his feet as he talks, and step towards her… In the same moment, she mirrors him, trying to move closer. Both of them fail miserably in their efforts, and stumble into the other. It might be hilarious, if Chrom doesn't bump his face into the woman's forehead and bruises his nose.

And yet she manages a bewildered laugh.

"You're not exactly graceful on two legs, compared to being a wolf… But then again, neither am I." She takes pity on Chrom's bewildered look. "I'm like you; I found myself in that other world… It's like a shadow of the normal world. A sort of mirrored realm, where spirits live. And where humans like us can't keep our normal forms, for long."

She sobers as she speaks. "I… Honestly lost track, of how long I'd been trapped in there. Until I found you. Wandering around in the woods. It helped me remember, that there was supposed to be a way out of that place."

"A-And it only happened when we fought off those things." Chrom says. There'd been a strange presence to those creatures; almost like they were warping the surrounding areas.

Chrom glances around, to make sure that world won't clap its jaws back over them again. But he doesn't see a trace of the rippling Twilight Realm. Just a deepening night sky, and a rising moon.

"I…" He slowly tries to recount what happened. "I was sent out to find a distortion, something making people vanish. And I remember seeing… A strange portal in the wilderness…" He suppresses a shudder. "Something pulled me through; like a shadowy limb shot out and grabbed me by the throat-"

He goes up to rub at his neck… But instead, the woman next to him presses her fingers to his neck, in an oddly soothing gesture.

"Similar to me… Though I had something pushing and pulling me through a strange ripple. I remember that much." She dips her head. "I… Think I've lost a few memories. A price from being in there too long, perhaps."

"W-well," Chrom fidgets a little under her touch, yet doesn't want her to break away. "We can figure it out one thing at a time, Robin…"

He stops short, as the name washes over him. He remembers when he first spotted the hawk, dipping among the shadows; and as she flew by, he heard a strange whisper in the wind. Something that could have been this woman's name. He finds himself saying as much, out loud.

"…I thought I got impression of your name too, when I first saw you." Robin admits. "Prince Chrom… Though I might have gotten the 'prince' from how proudly you held yourself, even as a wolf."

"Well… You're not wrong." He admits. "Do you know of a place called Ylisse?"

"A… A kingdom?" Robin tries.

"Right. And it's right on the border of this place… And our scouts keep seeing flickers of shadows, and strange doors and rifts, like what we were pulled through. I went out to investigate it… And got more than what I bargained for." He can faintly remember spending the entire day looking for strange sights, ready to give up, until the setting sun turned the world ablaze around him… And revealed that strange door.

"I think… That Twilight Realm is reaching out, into this one. Hungry for something." Robin tells him. "But apparently, it made a mistake when it chose you. Because when I saw you, I remembered that there was something beyond the shadowed world."

It's oddly flattering, hearing that.

"Will you come back with me?" He half asks, half offers. "I don't know if anyone will believe me, otherwise… And I-"

He didn't want that other world reaching out to take her back. Or take HIM back; and if they watch out for the other, that makes him feel a little more secure. Robin must feel the same, as she gives a small nod. Chrom manages to pull them both up, finding a little strength from her presence, and is able to make his steps more sure.

That shadow world isn't finished with him, Chrom is certain of that much. The same is true of Robin, as she glances around, a wary and vigilant look still on her face.

"…We know how to banish that place, at least." Robin murmurs. "Those monsters seem to spread the influence, and defeating them weakens the hold that world has."

Chrom has to nod at that. Knowing he might get drawn back in SHOULD give him chills… And yet, Robin keeps her hand in his. Instead, he can only focus on the warmth of her touch.

-o-o-o-

He needs that same touch, when he lays eyes on the castle of Ylisse. The closer they draw to it, the more it looks like a mirage, flickering in the waning daylight. Motes of shadow dance along the rooftops… Uncannily similar to the Twilight Realm he'd found himself in. As he watches, Chrom can feel the beginnings of hackles bristling against his neck, and the faint brush of fur.

Somehow, a similar pocket of Twilight has descended over the castle… And the gods only know what happens to those within.

Chrom lets out a strangled cry, ready to throw himself forward… But Robin holds him back.

"H-hold a moment!" She cries out. He still tries to reach out to the castle and struggle out from under Robin, but that's when the beginnings of claws try to sprout from his fingers. One step more, and the same Twilight Realm that twisted him before will get its fangs back into him.

Chrom has to break off his charge with a shudder and a barely subdued snarl.

"Gods… They took my kingdom!?" As his rage dies away, Chrom feels a sob build in his throat. "I… I just left the gates this morning. How could it-?"

"I-it was the Twilight Realm." Robin tells him. "You've seen the monsters that lurk there… And that must have been why the veil we were in weakened. Because all the energy was focused on taking over a new realm."

"What… What happened to the people in the castle? A-and my sisters-?"

"If their souls weren't strong enough… They might be little more specters now. Not dead, but living a half, shadowed life." It's cold enough comfort for Chrom, chilling his skin the same way that sweat coats his body.

"Chrom… I can feel the realm trying to pulse out." Robin warns him. "If we stay here, we'll get caught up in it, and-"

And he doesn't know if his body or mind would survive another change, so soon. Robin's grip loosens on him, her touch trying to become soothing and steadying as she traces her hand along his arm.

"…We're not abandoning them." Chrom says, wincing at the deep snarl seeping into his voice. He glares over at Robin, bracing for an argument-

He catches sight of her eyes, looking uncannily unlike a human's; the iris shifted to gold, and crowding out the whites of her eyes. It's a reminder that this place has a grip on her as well.

"…We won't." Robin slowly breathes out. "But we need to find a better way to fight against this, than just claws and fangs." Chrom can only nod, and let Robin lead him away. But as he turns, he can't help but look back at the castle… And he sees strange phantasms moving along the walls. Just like Robin says, spectres seem to loom-

And indistinct as most of them are, he picks out a clearer, stronger formed shadowy form on the ramparts. And that shadow has a set of blood red eyes that watch them flee. Chrom feels another shiver and bristle run over him; he remembers seeing similar blood red eyes on the end of the shadowy hand that snapped over his throat. And pulled him into the Twilight Realm.

Chrom glares back at them, trying to memorize those eyes… Because he has the feeling, that those things are responsible for the loss of his castle.

-o-o-o-

Time stretches out, as they're forced to put the castle at their backs. Chrom has vague recollection of an inn nearby… And at last, they manage to find it, fires and candle light streaming through the windows under the moonlight. Talismans of glass are hung at the doorways, half to ward off poor luck, and to invite travelers inside.

He half crawls towards the inn, stifling the impulse to drop onto four legs and bolt towards it… Or shy away from the glow of fire. His mind can't seem to quite decide whether the heat and hints of flames are inviting, or intimidating. Robin grips at Chrom's shoulder, keeping his focus on moving forwards. They've marched half through the night, looking for survivors from the castle.

"So… That's an inn?" Robin murmurs, like she's never seen such a building before. Her curiosity keeps them walking, until they step into the warm light of the inn. Chrom lets his breath out, but doesn't take the hood from his face just yet; he wants to read the room first, figure out what sort of travelers dwell here-

"Gentlemen!" Comes a high voice from one of the tables. And a familiar voice, at that; one that snaps Chrom's head around, desperate to find the source. "I'd like to propose a toast!"

Sure enough, he can pick out the sunny fabric of Lissa's vest. She doesn't make it hard to miss her either, with how she clambers up on one of the tables and holds her glass aloft.

"Who…?" Robin picks up on how Chrom tenses. "S-someone you know?"

"Yes…" Chrom murmurs, still staring, still half afraid that fatigue and lingering magic are playing tricks on him somehow. "That's… My sister. And somehow she-"

"We toast to the bravest souls who managed to slip past the grasp of the Twilight Realm!" Lissa shouts to the inn. And he knows his sister well enough to know when her boasts are covering something else… In this case, trauma. There's a slight haunted quality to her eyes, even beneath her boast. Chrom can see that much… And it makes him hesitate in removing his cowl.

"What… Are you talking about?" Robin speaks for him, drawing Lissa's eyes.

"Just that my friends and I… Well, take your pick." She gestures to another blonde girl trying to shush her, who Chrom quickly recognizes as Maribelle. And he can see a few others; there is Sumia, restlessly shifting in her seat, while Vaike sits up a little straighter, rising to the boast.

"…Bold words." Says one of the strangers by the table; one who doesn't show the usual cadence of Ylissean speech. He wants to hiss a warning at Lissa, just like Maribelle is trying to get her to stand down. But there's something wrong with his voice; there's still a growl that lurks in his words, and he's half terrified that if he tries to speak, he'll sound like an animal.

The stranger pays no heed to Chrom, focused all on Lissa, something in his gaze urging her to continue.

"Well, they're all true! We barely managed to slip out, thanks to Sumia's pegasus."

"…I just wish we managed to save a few more." Sumia says to that, staring at her glass; like she can find a way to go back and fix her problems, down at the bottom of her drink. In response, Lissa reaches out and gives her a surprisingly gentle pat on the back.

And so she misses the way the stranger lays a hand on a black steel hilted dagger.

At his side, Robin tenses up as she watches the stranger; there's something about him that makes Chrom bristle as well. Even if swords are a common sight among people, with the threat of monsters, the dagger the man carries sets him on edge.

"Well… All things being equal, I think you may have been happier if you stayed there." The stranger's voice comes out in an unnerving croon, and even Lissa freezes.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean that I have my orders, to ensure there weren't any survivors. When I throw you back into the realm, make sure to tell Grima's chief vassal that Gangrel sent you there."

He stands up, and the hood of his cloak falls aside, showing a bristle of red hair, and hungry gold eyes; eyes that carry the same glow as the Twilight Realm.

Chrom just barely recognizes the face; he's seen it on the borders of Ylisse often enough, glaring across the boundaries at him. Lissa finally recognizes the stranger as well; that he normally dwells across the borders of their kingdoms, in the ruined shadows of Plegia.

The others rise up, trying to stop Gangrel short… But it's clear the Plegian fighter didn't cross the border alone. He gives a curt order, and sends his own soldiers sweeping forward. The band of Plegians match the Ylissean's man for man… But are better armed. The best the Ylisseans can manage is Vaike grabbing a wine bottle and smashing it open on the table.

Chrom forces himself upright, even as Gangrel draws his dagger… And the steel gives an odd glint in the candlelight; the blackened steel seems to almost drink up the orange glow. Like he's looking at a shard of night itself.

' _Or a shard of Twilight.'_ Chrom has just enough time to think, before he throws himself forward; Vaike is already busy warding off two soldiers and protecting Maribelle, leaving Sumia and Lissa to fend for themselves against Gangrel… But not for long, before Chrom throws himself forward.

"Stay away from her!" He snaps out, not caring about the snarl in his voice now; it makes Gangrel still, and even go a bit pale when he turns to face Chrom. He lashes out with the dagger, and Chrom barely manages to twist his head aside in time. He takes little more than a cut along his cheek, as the blade catches and snags at his cowl, tearing the hood aside.

His skin bristles from the wake of the dagger, and he feels his lips pull back in a snarl… And show teeth that feel a little too sharp.

Gangrel's eyes widen when he sees Chrom.

"So… The prince of Ylisse somehow got out with his skin in one piece."

"Ch-Chrom!?" Lissa blurts out, staring at him.

"Or… Maybe I spoke too soon." Gangrel continues narrowing his eyes. From where the knife brushed against his cheek, Chrom feels a sudden twinge along his skin. And a bristle of fur growing in a line along his face. Gangrel gives a dark chuckle at that, twirling the dagger in his fingers.

"Wh… Where did you get that!?" Robin finds her voice next, and it comes out in a strange shriek. Gangrel's grin only grows when he hears her. He turns to Robin… And there's a recognition in his expression that makes Chrom's stomach go tight.

"Don't you remember, dear girl?" He taunts her and Chrom. "They're shards tied to that oh-so pesky Twilight Realm… And they help to further the place's reach. And we couldn't make them without YOUR help."

He leers at Robin, holding the dagger out and keeping Chrom at arm's width. Chrom curses himself… But he can FEEL his flesh ripple, in answer to that unsheathed blade. It wants to answer the magic emanating from the weapon, to twist his body again.

"I'll be sure to bring you back to Validar… Either human or with a few more feathers sprouting from your hide. But first… I'll see about the escaped royals." He whirls around, ready to either impale Lissa on the dagger, or slice her open. "I wonder what sort of specter you'll make, in the Twilight Realm-?"

Robin doesn't give him a chance to finish, throwing herself forward with a shriek, heedless of the cut she takes… And her human form winking out in strange ripple of glaring light and shadow. She's lunges past the aura from the blade, laying into Gangrel with talons and turning one side of his face into a mess of reddened furrows. The Plegian adds his screams to Robin's clutching at his ruined face with his free hand.

Her talons sever something else as well; a bright shard of something drops from Gangrel's throat, trailing a broken chord… And in response, Gangrel's flesh starts to blacken, his veins turning to strange, inky tendrils winding across his skin.

' _That thing, whatever it was, kept the black dagger in check.'_

Gangrel swings wildly about, trying to lash at the hawk, even as Robin flutters about. The blade licks across her blood feathers, making her cry out… And the sight of the dagger slashing at her, shoots a sudden bolt of rage through Chrom.

He finds himself pulled forward as well, heedless of how the blackened dagger warps his flesh. The twist of bristling fur along his cheek spreads, washing over him, making his jaw pop as his teeth grow long and sharp-

Gangrel's dagger swipes don't last much longer, as Chrom closes his jaws around the man's wrist. With a quick twist of his head, the bones beneath his jaws snap like old, winter dried sticks.

With a snarl, Chrom digs his back claws into the floor, twists about, and checks Gangrel hard with his shoulder; the shock and impact sends Gangrel crashing across the floor, and straight into the inn's fireplace. Chrom drops to all floors, glaring at Gangrel.

The sudden blaze of light and heat, as the fire finds Gangrel's cloth and flesh, drives Chrom back with a flinch. Something in the fire sparks a deep terror within him… And just like before, he can feel his thoughts fading, replaced with a sharp, immediate drive; fight, flee, do anything but staying still-

And most of all, don't dwell on the horror spreading across his sister's face.

-o-o-o-

It's a mad dash towards the forest after that, his breath panting in and out… And his blood still burning; he seems to run through the night, with only the faint silver of the hawk overhead to accompany him.

The magic from the Twilight Realm and from the black daggers seems to burn through his lungs… And he can only imagine what the dagger would have done, if it struck his sister-

"…A shame." Comes a human voice, one that stops Chrom short, paws scrapping through the dirt and loam. "I was dearly hoping that I'd have BOTH your sisters under my sway. Perhaps then, I'd have enough sway over you."

He shouldn't understand those words, Chrom thinks… And yet they still burrow into his brain, forcing him to spin around and snap his fangs at the air. His eyes have grown sharper as well, easily piercing the nighttime gloom… And finding a shadowy figure standing amongst the trees.

The stranger glows, a flickering orange and scarlet aura coating his shoulders like a mantle, washing over his limbs… And matching the sky of the twilight aura, from the other world. There is also a matching scarlet in the eyes of the stranger… The same violent red that bore into him before he was pulled into that world. And what he saw on the ramparts.

Now that he can see that face in detail, there's something familiar about this stranger… But he doesn't get the chance to dwell on that. Not with rage and red haze taking grip in his head. This is the same entity that yanked him through the twilight portal. And the one that plunged his own kingdom into the Realm.

A snarl tears out of him as he lunges at the figure… Only to flinch and veer back as a crackle of magic grows from the twilight aura, and strikes out at Chrom.

Overhead his keen new ears pick out a shriek, as the hawk dives as well; trying to swipe at Validar, and is rewarded with a blaze of magic. The spell singes at the rest of her flight feathers and throws her into Chrom. She's cushioned against the fur of his neck, but the impact throws them both back, tumbling along the ground until they end up tangled in the roots of a tree.

The stranger gives a sigh at that.

"And to think, I was about to give you thanks; I couldn't linger so easily in this world, without you helping to spread its influence in those… Different shapes of yours." He looks down his nose at them both. Chrom bares his fangs in response… And can't help but feel like a freak in the process. He should be wielding a sword against this stranger, or demanding answers from him-

Though the stranger seems ready enough to give them, as he observes the two.

"…Where are my manners. Even among mongrels, a man should make himself known. My name is Validar." Chrom's hackles bristle at that; faintly he can remember this man. A mage from the Plegian kingdom, with worrying reports on how he was amassing power… Until on the night of a new moon, when he suddenly vanished. Even as a wolf, the astonishment must show in his face, with how Validar laughs.

"Ah. Even as a beast, you recognize my name. I'm flattered, beastling prince. I suppose I could favor you with a few more tidbits… And help the fledgling by your side remember, and understand her role." Robin hasn't clawed her way back into the air just yet, shivering next to his side and mantling her wings.

Validar takes a step forward, towering over them both. He's already reaching out, magic crackling along his fingers-

"I don't think so." Chrom starts; that sounds almost like Lissa… As does the figure stepping in front of them both. Her skirts are stained with dirt and soot now, and there's a shiver in her stance. Nearby comes the snort and stamp of a horse, showing how Lissa found them.

' _How is she still-?'_ He stares at her, and picks out Gangrel's silvery talisman clutched tight in her hands. Her fingers shiver around the odd bright shard. It seems to act as a ward, keeping her safe in this pocket of twilight.

"Okay, mister tall, shadowy, and creepy. I'd stop gloating if I were you, and start explaining; what did you DO to my brother!? And my kingdom!?" Lissa isn't used to giving orders; that much is clear with how her voice squeaks and cracks… And yet even as she shivers, and he smells fear and sweat coming off her, she still stands her ground.

He's amazed that Validar hasn't cut Lissa down yet… But gets his answer soon enough when he hears another crackle of footsteps through the undergrowth. A quick glance shows Sumia and Vaike waiting just beyond the twilight aura, throwing spears and axes at the ready.

This has turned into a stand off. And going by how Validar chuckles, he finds the whole thing amusing.

"Well… And the little princess delivers herself to my grasp as well. I can praise you for your valor… If not your cleverness." He takes another step forward… And then a javelin hisses through the air, embedding itself in the dirt a scant inch from Validar's foot. He gives the weapon a measuring look.

"Y-you didn't answer my question." Lissa presses.

"I suppose I owe you that… And my fledgling daughter must have some holes in her head as well, in need of filling in." Feathers bristle and rustle against him, and he knows that Robin, in whatever form she is, still understands the human language well enough; enough to let out a low, angry kreel at Validar.

He speaks over it.

"So, little Princess. You know who I am?" He taunts Lissa, forcing her to answer. He even lifts his head a little, allowing the group to get a good look at his features. Lissa catches sight of him, and lets her breath out sharp. Chrom gives a startled bark as well; because Validar has also picked up some savage, deep gouges along his face, since his portraits were painted. Ones that might easily match the claws and beak of a hawk.

"O-of course I do; Emmeryn warned me enough about you. Plegia's Vanishing Heretic-"

"King." Validar corrects her. "And as for vanishing… I was pulled into the Twilight Realm. Or I carved an opening to it." Validar said. "I'd even be bold enough to say I gave it a bit of shape, and certainly a purpose; I managed to imbue it with a hunger, for the common world. And its been a willing host, to spread all my power and will…"

He trails off, glaring at Chrom. And there's enough of a feral light in his gaze, that it makes him a match for any wolf.

"…Up to a point. But there's only so far my own magic can reach, without other sources of power." He gives a dark laugh. "Sources that have so kindly buried themselves in your brother, and my daughter. And turned them into such beasts."

Lissa takes a step back, reaching out… And to Chrom's shock, she lays a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers brush across the lighter patch of fur along his shoulder… and the silvery brand burned into the fur. Lissa clutches at it, like she's searching for reassurance. It stills the low rumble building in Chrom's throat.

"But I grow tired of this… And I'll be needing the arcane energy that lurks in both of creatures, after all." This time Validar easily strides forward… And when Sumia raises another javelin, he makes a sharp twist of his wrist. The air seems to warp around him, making the magic thicker… And spreading it out. In another moment Chrom glimpses the strange glowing haze descend over the forest.

The javelin and throwing axe both twist and rust midair, turning to red dust before they ever reach Validar.

Chrom risks a glance back, snout wrinkling as the haze spreads over Sumia and Vaike both… Turning them to strange, shadowed forms that seem almost frozen. Even Maribelle is caught up in the warp, fading as well-

Lissa gives a strangled noise at that, almost dropping the bright talisman… The only thing that's keeping her whole. Validar watches the whole thing, cold and dispassionate.

"As is the fate of all, who lack the arcane spark… Or one of the talismans, crafted from such sparks." Validar sighs out, almost pitying. "But I'm growing tired of such games. Amusing as it is to see Ylisse's prince blunder about on four limbs, acting like the animal he really is… I'd sooner yank the magic out of you both and be done with it."

-o-o-o-

Despite her brave talk, and the confidence she's tried to put forward… Robin dreads being trapped in this form. And somehow she knows that if Validar has his way, then there's no going back from this shape; not even if they step out of this ripple of a Realm and into the moral world-

Then she sees it around Validar's neck; another shard of bright, mirror like steel; brilliant and beautiful as the sun itself, banishing the night.

' _Bright and black steel… Day and night-'_ There's magic in such things. She's certain of that much; and that thought gives her limbs a bit more strength. Her damaged wings sweep down once, stirring the soil, while her talons claw and grip against the earth. A second later they spring off of it, and she flies again at Validar, praying that her wings hold for just a few beats more.

Validar narrows his eyes at her, already preparing an incantation… But she doesn't close with him. Not like with Gangrel. Instead she veers at the last second, lashing out with claws at the bright talisman around his neck-

But Validar predicts her movement, and snaps his hand around the chords. Right as her foot closes on the thing, it gets yanked away, cutting red furrows along her talons. She wheels away, giving a pained screech. Her foot burns, her blood hums-

' _Hums?'_ Even as she falls through the air, Robin finds her focus shifting inward, to that strange thrumming in her heart.

It feels like when the talisman cut, it left a few bolts of magic singing through her blood. And it's magic she can use; she calls it up, trying to think of the two dual talismans, wedding those strands of magic with an image of her own shape-

And her body listens and reacts. Albeit, with such pain that the cut of the talisman and daggers feels like little more than a scratch. A raptor's heart is a poor match for these spells, too small and feeble for such magic coursing through it, and she's half terrified that her body will burn out before the spell is finished. But then her wings brush soil, as she crashes into the ground. She tries to cushion the fall using her feathers… And instead, has hands touch the ground.

She has just enough time to see Validar's outraged face, and feel certain she's had that same rage and contempt leveled at her before… And then the warp of magic bursts around them like a soap bubble. And she finds herself laying on the ground, with a confused princess staring over at her.

And an equally bewildered wolf shadowing them both, instead of Chrom. That's about the time Robin realizes that her spell work still leaves a lot to be desired.

-o-o-o-

No matter how many times fur and flesh reshapes, Chrom doubts he'll get used to it. The days pass by, and the terms of Robin's sorcery quickly become clear; with the magic of the Twilight Realm seeping into their normal world, and whatever magic Validar worked on them, their forms have permanently changed, gone into flux.

' _Wolf by night, and hawk by day.'_ Chrom thinks; he can barely catch a flicker of Robin as he opens his eyes; in one breath he sees a silver haired woman standing over him, making sure he's made it through the spell again… And in the next breath she fades out, as a hawk spreads its snowy wings and flies away.

"I'll never get used to this." Lissa echoes his thoughts, watching the changes. Chrom counts himself lucky that through everything, she's stayed by his side… And while he and Robin sometimes lack hands, she holds onto the odd shards of metal and talismans they collect.

Chrom coughs, trying to spit out the strange taste coating his mouth; he'll also never get used to the odd shadowy blood, whenever he's forced to use his fangs. Those creatures had sprung on them again, always seeming to favor either dawn or dusk to attack them. And doubtless commanded by Validar, to either capture or neutralize them.

"Well…" Lissa stands over the largest of the creatures, already dissolving into mist as she plucks up another shard from it. "That makes six apiece. Six bright and six dark shards…"

Chrom shakes his head, trying to remember how to grasp numbers… And something important behind them. Some sort of story about shards and legends…

"A… Mirror." He whispers the words out, swallowing and testing out his voice. He hates how there's always a slight trace of growl in his voice. And somedays, it feels like that growl only grows stronger and stronger.

Maybe a day will come soon, that the wolf will eclipse the man.

"A what…?" Lissa turns to him, distracting the dour thoughts.

"D-do you remember the stories Emmeryn used to tell us?" Chrom forces himself to ask, even though the memory is still like a raw wound in his head and heart. And he can see that same anguish play across Lissa's face; each time they dip into the Twilight Realm, he's half afraid he'll see Emmeryn's specter, and half hopes she's somehow still alive. Still human, even if he can't manage the same.

"I… I remember something about a mirror." Lissa says, staring down at the shards in her hands. "An… Artifact that vanished from Ylisse's treasury. One that reflects another world."

She twists the shards about, letting them catch the morning light.

"And I guess we know what happened to it."

"Do you think that shattering it… Could have opened a rift to the Twilight Realm? Like Validar suggested?" He hazards a guess, and Lissa gives a slow nod. "Then maybe… Making it whole again will mend the rift?"

"' _When night meets day, and when the three pieces of spell craft are brought together.'_ I think that's what Emmeryn always said. I'd be willing to give it a try." Lissa murmurs. "All we need is a mage… And once the day turns again, we'll have one of those."

He glances skyward… But is saved the trouble as talons close on his shoulder. Robin has gotten better at controlling her claws, and rests lightly on his shoulder. And Chrom is fearless enough to reach up, and gently run his hand over her feathers; he's yet to have his fingers taken off for his trouble, and Robin doesn't seem to mind.

He frowns, as he takes in the damaged state of her feathers; lingering hurts from a battle a few days ago. And yet Robin's new, savage features betray nothing. No pain, nor worry… Or even much in the way of thought.

The hours of the day slip by; at once too few, to do all the things he needs to accomplish, and too many before sundown. He feels a touch ridiculous, for so desperately catching another glimpse of Robin. And Lissa seems to have keyed into that as well, given the knowing smile she keeps gives Chrom.

As the sun dips low, she gives Chrom an even more knowing smile, when he dares to venture into a town, and comes back with a shimmering dress held in his hands.

"Aw Chrom, you shouldn't have!" She teases him. "Although it's not QUITE my size."

"I-i-it's… N-n-not…" Maybe he is more of a wolf than ever now, given how his words desert him.

"Not actually for me. I know." Lissa tells him. "But out of curiosity… Are there any words you'd like me to pass on to the young lady?"

He glances overhead, to see the hawk circling and then alighting on a nearby branch.

"W-well…" Chrom forces a deep breath; trying to steady himself. Lissa's smile turns from knowing to sympathetic, and she nods to the dress. "H-how can you-?"

"I have eyes, you know." Lissa says, her voice losing a little of its teasing. "And I know that you always seem to brighten up, when the subject is Robin. We get precious little of that cheerfulness, these days."

He finds himself nodding, and that thought in turn helps him gather his words.

"I guess it's obvious that I'm… Growing a bit fond of h-her. Which I know is funny, considering how rarely we are together. But I… Remember fragments." Of seeing a skilled sorceress guarding his sister, of walking alongside him without fear even when he's a wolf. And Lissa doesn't seem opposed to his words either; a sign that Robin has earned some trust across the family.

"I… Can certainly trust her with my life. The gods know I do that every night, when I walk as a wolf. And Robin… Even with the damage she's endured, she stays with us. She stays bright a-and beau… Er, well. The point is, she gives us hope. Do you think you could… Could perhaps tell that to Robin, when the sun sets?"

"Oh, I think I could manage that much. And maybe make a quick delivery, too!" Lissa takes the dress with a laugh.

-o-o-o-

Her laugh fades away, as the sun sets. It's one thing to put on a brave face. It's quite another to realize her brother just trusted her with a near confession. Or at least as best as Chrom can manage. It makes Lissa try to focus on other things, as the daylight fades and Chrom treads away. Days and weeks later, and he still can't stand to let others see him as a beast.

So Lissa tries to respect his wishes, and focuses instead on the shards; they catch the last embers of the sunset overhead. Just as Chrom says, they resemble a mirror. The light and dark shards look like a mingling of sun and moon… And missing only one shard, Lissa realizes. So close to being complete-

She starts, as a shadow draws across the surface of the mirror. Lissa follows it up to see Robin, back in her human form.

' _Okay. Come on. You can do this. And it's just your own brother trusting you to convey all his hope and emotions to a lady with his same curse. No big deal, just don't panic-!'_

"May I help?" The mage asks, voice surprisingly gentle. The best Lissa can manage is a quick, nervous nod. Robin kneels down, moonlight painting her hair in a gentle glow. Her fingers are skillful, showing brief sparks of magic as she fuses the shards together… And yet she isn't completely focused on her work, as she gives Lissa a sidelong glance.

"…Is there something bothering you?" Lissa tries not to blanch at the question. "Something on your mind?"

"It's… Well it's…" Lissa takes a deep breath… And then spits out as many words as she can. "You see it's my brother! I get that he can be a bit thick sometimes. And lacking in manners. And that was BEFORE he started turning into a wolf. B-but… But despite all that, he's a good person. He has good qualities, truly and-"

"And he's been growing fond of me." Robin echoes Chrom's words, making Lissa freeze. "If Chrom has faint memories from his time as a beast, I have better recollection… Maybe to make up for my own lack of memories."

But even as she speaks… Lissa can pick out a hint of smile crossing Robin's face. It's almost a mirror for Chrom's expression, whenever he talks about Robin… And Lissa decides now is as good a time as any to all but throw the dress at Robin while blurting out.

"Yesandhesendshisregardsaswell! Andthisdress!"

Out of shock, Robin grabs the dress, holding up the fabric. The dark violet flatters her skin, Lissa thinks-

"It doesn't suit you, compared to the priestly garb you once wore." She goes cold at the new voice, and Robin freezes as well.

-o-o-o-

"Hello… Father." Robin forces herself to speak, staring at the sorcerer, even as she fears he might sunder the fabric of the world. Lissa clings to the mirror, holding it to her chest; the moonlight and flickering light shine across the surface… Save for the one gap in the mirror, the one missing piece.

The one shard that Validar wears around his neck. He switches his scornful gaze from Robin to the mirror.

"You try my patience, daughter. First you shatter the mirror, as per my orders… But instead of charging the shards with more power, to spread my influence, you make the mistake of trying to bring the mirror back together."

"I… I remember some of what you _forced_ me to do." Robin countered, glaring at him… And bunching her hands into fists, to try and hold better onto her shape. Her memories try to spark up; of Validar holding the mirror before her, working magic and branding a symbol of power into her hand. And how the artifact couldn't hold against such power arcing between the two… Or how her own form couldn't hold, either.

Validar simply tilts his head, regarding Robin.

"I doubt your two companions would want you back, knowing what you've done. What you're responsible for." She hates the certainty in his voice… And the fact that she also can't hear or sense Chrom nearby. Perhaps he finally has gone wild… Or he understood enough, that he wanted to cut away from her. "So knowing the error of your ways, and how you strayed from our plan… Don't you wish to return?"

"R-Robin…" Lissa only manages one word. But it's enough to break Validar's diatribe. "I f-forget to tell you the rest of what my brother said; that he… Always feels a little more hope, whenever he sees you. He WANTS you to stay by his side-!"

Her words are desperate compared to Validar's… But they strike home to her heart, in a way Validar can't. It makes her brace up, looking back at Validar.

"I'd sooner end my days as a hawk." Robin tells him, tossing her dress to Lissa matching him glare for glare.

"Well… That can be arranged." Validar snarls, and there's a guttural quality to his voice that immediately sets Robin on edge. The world seems to twist again, this time warping Validar as his flesh bubbles, churns… And changes in a way that echoes her own experiences.

Only she's never turned into a great, shadowy monsters. The creature looms over her and Lissa, ready to smash them both… And after those strange ripples of magic transforming him and warping the air, she can't harness the power like she should. Can't fight back as he threatens to crush her and Lissa under claw-

But that's when she hears it. A familiar growl, one that she's heard when fighting shadowy monsters. And while it might make Lissa freeze, and even the monster above them hesitate… She's never been more glad to hear it.

She glimpses little more than a blur of steel and sky fur, and a flash of fangs… But just like that, the dark beast staggers back, bellowing in pain. The wolf keeps his fangs sunk into the flesh of the monster's neck, claws digging into the skin as the creature writhes and twists, trying to shake him loose.

But as he snarls and tangles with the monster, his jaws tear the shard free from Validar's monstrous neck. And drops it at Robin's feet.

"We're not going to have a better chance!" Robin hears herself speak, as she forces her eyes from the sight and turns her focus to the mirror. The pieces threaten to cut her hands, but still she manages to fit them together.

Wolf and monster both clash together; Chrom seems heedless with how blood soaks his fur… In part because of the wounds he's torn into Validar. Lissa gives a sob as she slams the last shard into place on the mirror. Robin lets one last bolt of magic travel through her, mending the thing together… And once again the world shifts around them.

She feels her flesh and bones all ache… But this time she welcomes the change; if she's spent her magic with fusing the mirror back together, and giving it an arcane spark, then she can still bring her talons against Validar.

She runs forward, through the pain, and gives one leap towards the fight; her feet never touch the ground, as she takes wing. Her talons stretch out… And another faint memory comes to her. Before, when Validar broke the artifact and twisted the magic, she'd caught the first waves of it. They'd changed her into a hawk… And also given her the means to lash out at Validar, leaving him clutching his bloodied face as she flew away. To eventually meet Chrom.

Now, as the wolf snarls and bites, drawing the monster's attention, she stretches her talons out one more time. They hit home, marking and clawing the other side of Validar's face. Right as the magic of the mirror takes full effect.

-o-o-o-

The sky shifts, the stars blazing bright in one side, a midday blue sky on the other… And the moon and sun seeming to meld together, thrown into alignment.

Validar turns human with a pained scream as the world shifts. The Plegian mage stands silhouetted against the black sun, which stares down at him like a giant, lidless eye… And it also catches Chrom in its gaze. And just like that, he finds that he can stand upright, shedding his wilder form. With a flash of silver, Robin arrows down from the sky and coming to a rest beside him.

He reaches his hand out, ready to give her a perch… But instead she spreads her talons out towards the ground, landing in a flurry of bright feathers that tangle the eye… And the next moment, something grasps him by the fingers. Something that isn't tipped with talons. He desperately grips back at Robin's hand, forgetting Validar for an instant.

"Y-you're here…" And human. He's desperately wanted to see her face again, after so long apart. And she gives him a similar, desperate look; like there's so much she wants to say in that moment… But Validar doesn't permit it. Not with how he raises his hand up, shouting blasphemous curses and incantations. Robin snaps her eyes back to Validar, scowling; clouds seem to well up in the sky, trying to blot out the sun… But the light is too strong, glaring through Validar's attempts-

Robin gives a soft incantation as well, more gentle… And yet, it seems that magic listens to her. And the light streaming down off the eclipsed sun turns bright, into bladed beams like arrows and swords. All of them lashing down at Validar. He's buried under the onslaught, the brilliance searing his form away.

Until at last the sky clears, and the sun returns to its rightful place… And through it all, Robin's hand remains in his.

He stares at her, gratefully squeezing at her hand… And beyond her, he can also see familiar figures, emerging dazed from the wilderness; there's Sumia and Vaike, Maribelle… And even Emmeryn. Lissa gives a delighted and squeak at that, even as the restored ruler stares at Robin and at Chrom, bewildered.

"Chrom… I… I'm certain that I sent you out on a quest, to-"

"To discover the strange ripples of magic." Chrom says, grateful that his voice no longer carries a wild edge. "Well… I can safely report back." He tightens his hand around Robin's bringing her forward. "And perhaps introduce you to a fine lady, and former hawk."


	2. College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA, The Final Fantasy VIII AU.

"I don't believe this. Your final exam is right around the corner.. And you're playing CARDS?" Lissa stares between Chrom and the card grid. They've made a rough game space out of an unused table in the quad, where there's plenty of open air surrounding them, and hints of a sea breeze coming through. All of it helps to calm Chrom's nerves, even with his sister hovering over him. And doing her best to spoil the game.

"More accurately, he's losing at cards." Vaike corrects her. "Face it, Chrom. You're hopeless at Triple Triad."

"Less trash talking, more playing." Growls one of the other students; Sully has her boots kicked up on a spare chair, watching the game. Sumia is also nearby, looking between the table and a collection of books balanced in her lap.

They make for a decent group, through privately Chrom is glad the rest of their team is off being more practical with their time. But he's never been able to refuse a challenge from Vaike… Even when that challenge is to try his hand at a card game.

Chrom takes in a deep breath, getting another lungful of soft sea breeze drifting in from Balamb beach. Overhead, the Garden Academy circle gleams in the sunlight, an array of steel and glass, while the bells softly chime out to show one period of classes is over. Meaning he needs to finish this game up, before Frederick or Cordelia reprimands them for slacking or being late.

"I also don't give up, until I'm certain I'm out of options." Chrom answers Vaike and Lissa both. "So please give me a moment? I want to see if I can turn this around."

There's still a few spaces left on the square, and a few cards left in his hand. Vaike plays aggressively, like always, flipping his cards and forcing Chrom to play defensively. Soon enough Chrom finds himself backed into a corner with just two cards left, and Vaike grinning at them, savoring the inevitable victory.

"Thinking I'll go with Quetzalcoatl as my winning prize." He tells Chrom, nodding to one of the cards still in his hand. The edges of the square are well worn from his thumbs worrying over the corners. Chrom frowns at that; it was the first card he'd ever been gifted, when he first joined the Garden military academy. All in the hopes of becoming part of their elite forces.

"Always thought that Guardian Force beastie looked kinda cool," Vaike continues, ignoring any unease in Chrom's posture.

"Only because you've never managed to junction that thing." Lissa points out, turning her ire onto Vaike. "And Vaike! You've got the same final exam coming up too!"

She says that loud enough for the other students in the quad to pause for a moment.

"So do you, Liss." Vaike points out. "So why're ya wastin' time scolding us?"

"H-he has a point." Sumia chimes in. "You can do a little reading with me, if you prefer-?"

"Thanks but… It's because I-I'm worried." Lissa drops her eyes, turning her voice into a mutter. "Vaike's got another year, so if he flunks it isn't the end of the world-" Vaike gives an offended "HEY!" at that. "But Chrom… You're cutting it close."

He has a feeling he knows where this argument is going; they've had it before.

"If this is about the new Junction Program, Frederick and Cordelia are already showing what we can do as elite troops." He points out. "And…"

Chrom rubs at the card corners again, half out of worry and half out of thought.

"Well. What sort of leader would I be, if I graduated early and left the rest of you behind?" Lissa frowns at that. "Anyways… I promise you, I plan to graduate along with the rest of you. We'll do this as a team… Providing that Vaike doesn't completely stomp me at cards."

"And go soft on you? Why'd I do that? So c'mon, man. Hurry up and play your last card so we can finish this up."

"…Right." Chrom lets his breath out in a long, resigned sigh, looking over the board one last time. Vaike has backed him into a corner, and he can't even hope to build the strong numbers on the right and bottom sides into play. His other card is equally useless. He gets ready to put down the odd card, so he can hold onto Quetzalcoatl for a little bit longer-

"Don't." Comes a sudden voice, making Lissa jump in her seat and Chrom freeze in place. He stops short of putting the card down, looking up to see there's a new spectator for their game. Sully has already jolted away, scowling at the surprise visitor.

The newcomer, however, remains focused on the game. Her eyes dart between Chrom's hand and the board, as she brushes pale bangs from her face.

"Don't play that one." She repeats, narrowing her eyes. "Go with your other card."

Chrom stares… But there's something to her voice that makes Chrom follow before he can think.

"HAH!" Vaike slams his hands down on the table. "Well, guess that means I win-!"

"…Um." Sumia raises her voice. "Vaike? Didn't you hear about the new rules?"

"…Excuse me?" Vaike raises his eyes from the board. Chrom does the same, giving Sumia a startled blink.

"S-same. Where if the numbers match, that means a card gets captured. They just got officially implemented last week for all Garden games, remember? And since that means Chrom just flipped two of your cards and has more captured…"

"…You've gotta be KIDDING." Vaike collapses back into his seat, while Chrom lets out his breath. It'd been pure luck he'd gotten that arrangement in place. That, and some sharp eyes. He raises his head to thank the stranger-

Only to see she's already drifted away, walking through the Quad and turning her head at each step, taking in the area.

"…So that's the new kid." Sully mutters. At Chrom's confused look, she continues. "Heard it from Stahl, and a bunch of cafeteria gossip. She's some sorta transfer from Galbadia Garden… And from what I hear, part of the Shepherd SeeD program. She can summon and build up rapport with the Guardians, just like the rest of us."

"R-right." Taking another look, Chrom sees that there's slight differences to her Garden uniform, with a splash of red to her ribbons. She sticks out against the gentle blue stone and tilework of the school, still picking her way along.

"I think I've heard about her too. She's called Robin." Lissa says. A part of Chrom wants to follow after her… But the rest of him is busy with gathering up the cards, and getting ready for class.

-o-o-o-

The end of the school day finds Chrom in the library; Lissa's worry still follows him, making him want to try to do a little more studying. There's always an odd hush and sense of awe when he walks in here; and today, there seems to be an extra sense of gravitas, as amber beams of sunlight drench the towering bookshelves in orange and red.

Chrom moves to the end of the library, knowing he'll need to claim a work bench early; it's always first come and first serve in here, and he already knows he won't be able to study in his dorm. Too many distractions-

Though it turns out there's another distraction, currently hunched over one of the tables. He instantly recognizes the transfer student.

"H-hey… Robin?" He tests out the name, making her head yank up. Chrom takes a closer step, and a closer look at her table. It's piled high with texts, enough that would put even the bookish Sumia to shame. There's papers and notes strewn across the desk… But Chrom notices something odd about Robin's writing.

"Wh-what's with all the blanks in your notes?" He can't help but ask. Robin winces… And doesn't fully meet his eyes. Her pencil worriedly taps on the papers.

"They're not… I was going to fill them in, in just another second or two." Her forehead furrows, and Chrom notices that most of the blanks are names; places, people… All the information of the world. And all the basics of Garden study and classes.

"'Balamb Garden.'" He provides, looking at the blank space where pencil rests. "That's where we are now; founded by Cid Kramer a few decades ago."

"I-I knew that!" She hunches over her notes defensively. "I… I knew some of it." She continues, in a more subdued voice.

"I don't doubt it." Chrom says, pulling up a chair to sit beside Robin. "You were sharp enough with that card game, so it's clear you know a lot. But…?" He looks to the papers; some of them are also homework assignments from today, that he's already breezed through. Yet, the transfer student seems to struggle with them.

"I… Swear to you, that I used to know all of this information. It's just that right now…" Her pencil digs an angry line along one of the questions in the homework page, scrawling over to the entry about the sorceress. "My head feels like… Like there's all these blanks, where the information SHOULD be. And that's probably why they transferred me out of Galbadia and into here… Because I somehow forgot all of that. And ended up as a disgrace."

As she speaks, tension builds through her… Along with something else. There's an odd spark and static that clings to her skin and runs along her hair.

As Robin grows more frustrated, static seems to build in her hair.

"I can't remember!" She slams her fist down… And a sudden strand of lightning skips from her skin to the desk lamp, blowing it out. Robin almost jumps out of her seat with a yelp… But stops short when Chrom claps a hand on her shoulder.

"H-hey, easy. It looks like junctioning took a toll on you." And it makes him pause, over the thought of acquiring his own Guardian Force. Apparently, there's some truth to the idea that such forces wear down on the mind.

That bit of lightning she'd fired off had to be para-magic; showing she already has something junctioned to her. And all at once, he remembers the lesson Cordelia pressed into them. To be careful about relying on summoned entities too much.

"I-I don't think it's your fault, if you've got blanks like that in your head. You're using a Guardian Force, aren't you?"

He lets his thoughts and focus blur a little, to see if he could pick out a faint energy signature lingering in the air. He picks out another odd taste of lightning, dancing across his tongue and shivering down his spine.

"Y-yes? I remember that much." She tells him. And he can feel a soft thrum. "Though… I need to work through the specifics." Chrom gives her a curious look, and that seems to prompt her to continue. "I… Was selected to see how well Galbadian students would bond with Guardian Forces...?"

She trails off, giving Chrom a confused look; like she understands the term, but not all the theory behind it.

"We also call them 'GF's for short. They're like concentrated, powerful energy with a will of their own… But sometimes, they'll let us channel them, summon them if we prove our own will is strong enough."

"Ah… Right. Well, the thing is… The Galbadians had just one, and I… I think passed all the tests. But when that thing was junctioned onto me… I…" She closes her eyes with a shiver. "All I can really remember is a lot of flashing light, thunder… And a generous crater carved into the classroom. That might've been the other reason they transferred me here, to save on the property damage."

Chrom nods; he can faintly remember hearing rumors flying about. That Balamb had lent out a Guardian Force to Galbadia, and a sudden surge of chaos that came from that. He fishes the Quezacotl card out of his pocket and places it down on the table, now that he recognizes the energy signature from Robin.

"Well… On top of that, it's like my first summon fried my brain."

"It's a risk that comes from wielding Guardian Forces. But…" He gives her a measuring look.

"It might come back to you. I-I haven't gotten the chance to really summon or junction any creatures yet, beyond training exercises. So I might not be able to talk more than theory. But in the meantime, with all these notes and assignments…" His look turns hopeful, that she'll say yes. "I owe you for helping me out in that card game."

And he can't help but brighten up, when Robin gives a hesitant nod, and turns her notes towards him for help.

-o-o-o-

Balamb Garden quickly becomes a home for her… And Robin finds the speed of that, and how quickly it feels familiar, more than a little unnerving. And yet she takes to the classes like she's always been here, memorizes the ring-like layout of the school with ease, and absorbs all the information and lessons like her brain is a sponge.

She can't quite bring herself to change out the red of her ribbons, however; maybe in the hopes that some of her memories from Galbadia will eventually trickle back, if she holds onto that one part of her life. Though even if her head stays frustratingly devoid of memories, there's still enough in her day to keep her mind busy with learning, instead of remembering. The lectures all fill her head; the theories of using guardian forces as a short cut to harnessing magic energies, and how such raw power is impressive… But still pales in comparison to the beings known as "sorceresses."

Her head always gives an odd buzz when she thinks over that, making her fingers twitch and her body restless.

She also can't help but notice there's a similar frantic energy to some of her classmates, as the exam dates loom closer. Eventually, she drums up the courage to ask Chrom about it; offering him lunch in the cafeteria helps with that.

"I notice you've been late with getting to the cafeteria. You never seem to arrive in time for the flavored bread, or the hotdogs." Robin waves him over to her table, and the extra portion she has waiting for him. He lights up a little at the sight.

"Yeah… I've been trying to get some more studying done in the library." He admits, but still gives the hotdogs a greedy look. He also doesn't blanch at the fact they're piled high with macaroni and cheese, along with some broccoli.

' _And here I thought I was the only one who liked those topings.'_

"Because of that written exam we need to do?" Robin continues, and gets a nod. "…Even though you've been acing all the homework assignments? What's got you so worried?"

"…I… I just really NEED to pass these exams." Chrom tells her. "You know the rules, don't you? Once you hit 20, you're dismissed from the Garden if you haven't reached SeeD membership. I want to graduate with the rest of my team, so that's why I've held back on taking the written and field exams."

"Team… You mean Shepherd?"

"Right. We're all compatible with the para-magic Garden has been researching, and with the Guardian Forces. Everyone's been learning how to properly channel an entity, like you have with that thunder summon of yours. And with varying speed. But now… They're all caught up with me. And with luck, we'll all graduate together."

"One question." Robin asks, as Chrom takes a drink and pulls one of the plates over. "Is there room in that graduating class for… For perhaps one more person, maybe? In exchange for helping you out?"

"Don't see why not, considering your grades." He tells her. "Besides, it'd be nice to have someone else on the team that shares my taste in food."

-o-o-o-

As Robin quickly re-learns, graduating to a full fledged SeeD takes three steps and three tests; written, junctioning, and field. And Chrom is determined to pass them all, starting with the written.

Robin can't help but admire how studious he is; when she volunteers to help, he pounces on that. They spend multiple evenings pouring over books, quizzing each other on questions… Until at last the written exam arrives.

She can't speak to Chrom as it happens; they've been placed into the same class together, and even share the same terminal space. She glances over to him once or twice, to see him intent on the questions. For Robin, the answers fly off her fingers. And oddly enough, she can feel a faint electric hum in the back of her brain as she concentrates. Almost as though Quetzalcoatl is trying to give her some aid, and sharpen her mind.

And even though Chrom doesn't have a Guardian Force spurring him on… It's clear that he's done well, as their instructor goes over the results.

"Congratulations, Chrom. You passed with flying colors; second only to one other." Frederick tells them, before giving Robin a sharp look. She reddens a bit from his focus… But still holds her head up, knowing she's earned her rank in the test; the same as Chrom had earned his. Frederick meets her eyes for a moment longer, before giving her the briefest, albeit respectful nod.

"In fact, the entire class made it through… Some more easily than others." That pointed look is transferred to Vaike. "Still, a pass is a pass. We move on as an entire class to the Junctioning test. I advise all of you rest up for it."

With that, Frederick dismisses the class… And Robin wonders at the way Chrom's satisfaction fades out, replaced again with worry.

-o-o-o-

The day of Chrom's Junctioning test arrives with gray skies, and thick heavy rain. It's the sort of weather that encourages everyone to stay inside if they don't have a pressing assignment.

Which is why it's such a shock to see Robin standing at the school gates, waiting for him.

"Instructor Frederick said he'd go on ahead, and asked me to bring you along." She tells him; she's still formal when it comes to using ranks and titles. Even if she has a spotty recollection of it, it seems that Galbadia has drilled her with formalities. Chrom's gotten used to that, but the rest of what she has to say makes him frown.

"He ordered you? But you're already Junctioned-"

"Not ordered. Asked. And… I did request if I could come along, to observe. It might help jar something loose in my memories. Besides, the Garden faculty would like it if I can pass another test, to make sure that whatever happened to me wasn't… Well, to make sure they can figure out my limits."

"…Okay." Chrom sighs out. Arguing with her won't do much good; he's learned that when they study and debate. And he's already getting soaked, standing at the gateway. Robin offers up one of the long sleeved rain robes, which he eagerly slips into.

It's an hour's hike out of Garden to their destination. But by that time, the rain has figured out how to seep in past their rain robes, and leave them both soaked.

"F-finally." Chrom says through chattering teeth, once he spots the gray cliffs blending with slate skies. As they march for the entrance, some of the lectures and notes flicker across his head; that a Guardian Force is usually brought about by a surplus of energy. Sometimes elemental, sometimes magical, and sometimes by an excess of chance and luck. And that the cavern here specializes in forming fire elementals, thanks to the geomancy and confluence of ley lines.

' _Likely just one fire elemental has formed… But it'll be powerful enough, that it'll forge contracts and bonds with any number of cadets. Provided we're strong enough.'_ He finishes the thought as they draw up next to the cliffs, and the dark cavern carved and burrowed into them.

Frederick, clad in a more ornate looking uniform than theirs, waits for them. The rain falls off his bangs with scarcely a twitch or a shiver from him. As Chrom draws closer, he understands why; the instructor has his back to the Fire Cavern, and there's enough magic and raw elemental power there to superheat the air. Drawing close, the rain is little more than mist on a balmy summer day.

"You come in good time." Frederick tells them. "You're the last of the class."

"H-have the others passed?" Chrom finds himself asking, hoping he isn't overstepping his boundaries.

"Yes. Some a little more bloody than others, but an impressive enough performance. I have high hopes that you'll finish strong, for the entire class."

' _No pressure.'_ Chrom thinks, resting his hand on his blade. With all his time spent at the books instead of training, he's worried he won't immediately recognize Falchion…But the gunblade fits into his hand as if he never let go. He catches Robin giving it a surprised look, now that he's thrown aside his raincape and shown the scabbard.

"I… I've heard about those." Robin murmurs, giving the sword a questioning look. The long pipes gathered near the grip give the blade an almost bristling, but still elegant appearance. "I'm still surprised they work the way they do; letting the kick and discharge from the chamber push the sword to make deeper cuts."

"Well, you might see how well it works in a few minutes." Chrom tells her, trying to push some confidence into his voice… Because the truth is, there's some worry and unease clinging to his throat, and the cold feeling in his stomach has nothing to do with the rain drumming down on his head.

Chrom hesitates at the threshold; hearing about taming a Guardian Force, and stepping into one's domain to subdue it are two different things.

"Don't falter." Frederick advises him, acting as both an observer and instructor. The older man wears the SeeD mantle easily, along with the uniform. "You've studied how to tame a Guardian Force for months now, and passed the written exam."

Chrom forces himself to take a step forward, his feet scrapping along the floor, and the class lecture echoing in his head.

' _A Guardian Force exists in specialized energy fields, and can reside in any number of organisms. Some GFs happen by chance. Others, we can influence, by forming a careful intersection of elements and ley lines. Enough for entities to take shape, and be tamed.'_

When Frederick and Cordelia first described the process, it felt almost rote. Standing at the entrance of a cavern with the heat blasting his face, it feels anything but routine.

"I'll act as your second… But you'll rise or fall on your own merits." Frederick tells him, walking alongside Chrom. With the way he talks, the sweltering temperatures of the cavern barely reach him-

…And yet, Chrom still notices a limp to his step.

"Sir?" He asks, staring at Frederick's leg; the black of the SeeD uniform almost hides the char marks decorating it.

"I… Ah, took the liberty of scouting inside. And I can attest that the monsters are more feral and aggressive than usual. They're likely picking up on the energy of the elemental. And I… Had a moment of carelessness."

"S-sir." Chrom finds himself speaking up, hanging back where Frederick tries to push forward. "If you're wounded, then… Can you really act as my second? Isn't that too much of a risk?"

Frederick narrows his eyes at that; Chrom knows that he's speaking out of turn, not respecting the chain of command and authority.

"Usually, a soldier is expected to obey and respect the commands of his superior." Frederick tells him, the harshness of his voice pushing Chrom's head down. Sweat itches at the back of his neck, before shivering down his back. "…However. It's also the mark of a good fledgling commander, to be capable of thinking for himself."

Frederick shoots Robin a look, and his focus is almost like a line pulling her forward.

"But you still need a second inside the cavern… And since she already has a Guardian Force, she'll have to do. Provided there's no objections?"

"I… I guess not." Robin says. She forces herself forward, and he can see how she's bracing herself up. It pushes him forward as well.

He steps into the fire cavern, and all the water steams off his clothing. Robin peels off her rain cloak, dropping it to a red tinged floor. And looking around, Chrom realizes why this place deserves the 'fire' designation. The walls and rocks all look like they've been flame at once point, then turned solid. Spikes, red stone, and a rough hewn path all mingle together in various shades of orange and scarlet.

"Gods…" He mutters, before needing to swallow and wet his mouth. The heat sucks all the moisture out of him with just a breath.

"W-we'd better hurry." This place also burns through all the confidence he's tried to stir up; walking forward is the most confident thing he can do. Heat seeps up through his feet, and his steps echo strangely along the rock path; all these ledges and paths have been polished by thousands of other feet, making it an easier route to traverse.

Chrom gathers another searing breath, and pushes himself into a run. Robin chases after him with a yelp, as they dart along the rocks.

There's a strange rumbling around them, as they thread between spires of rock; through the clusters of stone, he can see the source of that rumbling. Lava flows along with a growl of fresh churned earth.

"I hope the geomancy of this place holds." Robin mutters, watching the elements surge by. Chrom slows just enough to manage a nod, knowing that without it they'd be dead twice over.

It turns into an endurance run past that. Finding their way through the passages, until at last they come to the center of the fire cavern; a crown of reaching stone claws, where the lava seems to flow from, like blood from a wound. The heat is almost unbearable here… And it grows worse when they step into the circle of stones.

Something claws its way out of the lava flow when they draw near, vaguely leonine in appearance, but with a bristling mane of flame. It surges at them with a roar, and Chrom can feel power blazing off of it. It's clear they've found the Guardian of this place, and it's still spoiling for a fight.

He braces, ready to give it just that. His training still holds, and he finds just the right stance, squinting against the sparks and gouts of flame coming off the creature. When it charges him, Chrom steps to the side at the last moment, opening the creature up to a counter attack and cut. It taxes his stamina, reminding Chrom that he can only dodge for so long before the monster starts scoring hits-

Which makes it all the more important that his own strikes count. He squeezes down on the trigger, and an explosive gunshot echoes through the cavern, louder than it has any right to be. Even Robin winces from the sound, and the Guardian flinches back, glowing hot blood marring the floor.

Hopefully that answer's Robins question, on how well a gunblade works.

Robin herself has taken a step back, eyes glazing over for an instant. There's a faint droning sound filing the cavern, as the air around her becomes super charged with motes of energy, and almost glows around her. Chrom recognizes a magic incantation when he sees one, and remembers one of Cordelia's lessons; to keep any enemies well away from magic users as they cast.

So he throws himself back at the Guardian, while it's still reeling from his attack. But it gathers itself and snaps claws around him, slamming him into the ground even as it collapses. The rock seems to crackle underneath them, glowing rents and fire seeping up from the ground… But even as his ribs bruise, he still gives Robin time to finish her spell.

The cinders dancing around the Guardian suddenly shift, turning from little motes of flame to sparks of crackling electricity. The air crackles as lightning smashes down on the monster, driving it off Chrom and leaving him free to fight his way to his feet.

The battle turns into a flurry of sword swings and magic… Until at last, the Guardian bows its head. A low rumbling voice comes from it, as it admits defeat.

"I've pledged myself to many new summoners and soldiers today…" It growls. But as rough as its voice is, there's a touch of respect there as well. "…But I'm satisfied, to have two more fighters to ally with."

' _Two?'_ He glances to Robin… And remembers one last test subject; the reminder that someone can, in theory, have more than one Guardian Force bond to them, if the compatibility is strong enough. But he doesn't have much time to dwell on that; the heat is getting to him, and he's more than ready to report back to Frederick, and cool off in the rain.

-o-o-o-

It doesn't take long for a battle or skirmish to flare up in one of the countries, and so provides Garden with a testing ground for their field exam. And to Robin's surprise, it's between two countries she can recognize; Dollet and Galbadia, with Garden deciding to side with Dollet.

Through the transport ride across the sea, they get their briefing on the mission; secure the town, and give the Dollet forces and SeeDs a strong anvil to hammer the Galbadian forces against. Robin gets that much from the mission intel, before the teams are announced; and to her surprise, she finds herself paired with Chrom again.

"Your performance in the fire cavern was respectable." Frederick tells them. "And as a consequence…"

He trails off, tilting his head to the top of the ship. When Robin mirrors him, she can just hear it; the muffled thud of explosions, and a faint acrid scent of smoke filtering into the cabin.

"Sir, permission to go up top and evaluate?" Chrom asks, and is rewarded with a nod. It takes just a quick look between the two of them, before Robin follows him up. It's a quick clamber up the stairs and a snap of the hatch, before they find themselves on the turret deck, and the salty sea breeze starts to tussle Robin's hair.

The low hum of engines mixes with the crashing waves, along with the crackling static of radio chatter. It almost forms a heartbeat, like the Garden transport fleet is a living hunter seeking out a mark.

And that mark is visible, just ahead. Robin draws in her breath when she sees Dollet; in normal conditions, it would likely be a pristine, old and storied city. The smoke billowing off the harbor and buildings turn it into a warzone, and heat of the fires slap her across the face. While the temperature might dim, compared to the fire cavern, it still bites at the skin.

Explosions sprout up along the beach head, acting like signal flares. The transport fleet surges forward, and the floor almost yanks out from under Robin's feet. Even as things whirl into a frenzy, she can't help but chart the path of the ship… And notice that they're heading straight towards the wall encircling the harbor. Chrom snaps a hand around her shoulder and pulls her back, as they almost tumble down the ladder and into a chaotic cabin. Everyone else is startled by the sudden surge in speed.

"SUMIA!" Frederick barks out. "What's going on!?"

"Sorry, sir!" Comes a nervous voice from the pilot cadet. "It's just that the radio said to accelerate, and you said to head straight for the beach, and the straightest line is-"

"…Over the wall." Robin says, looking out the windows. Too late to swerve away like the other ships have. "I'd suggest bracing."

"Oh great," says Lissa.

"Oh cra-" mutters Chrom.

"WHRRNCH." Goes the ship, plowing up the side of the breakwater. Robin's pretty sure that a ship this heavy and reinforced has no right to go airborne for several seconds. The ship apparently agrees, with how the metal all screeches across the bricks and the entire cabin rattles and drifts in midair, before splashing down with a heavy lurch. The cadets and instructors both fail to keep their feet. She's pretty sure a few of the bolts in the walls pop out in protest, while Chrom groans underneath her; she tries to get her elbows out from his kidneys, and get ready for the beach.

By comparison, the beach landing is almost gentle; lurching up onto the sand as the entrance folds open.

"Squads A, B, and C, prepare to move out!" Frederick barks from his spot on the floor, already scrambling to his feet. "Ready your Guardian Forces, and secure your points!"

Chrom nods at that… But he pauses long enough to put a hand on her shoulder, making certain she's ready to move out. That moment of contact is enough for Robin to gather her strength back up, follow him onto the beach, and into the city.

-o-o-o-

It's a chaotic and bloody battle to the central square. One thick with Galbadian forces entrenched in choke points, and the Garden cadets forcing them out and taking the spots for themselves. Chrom glimpses other squads tearing into different points; Vaike leading his group in a charge over a collection of crashed vehicles, Sully securing one of the high bridges with her team. He hopes they remember their training; how to keep their GFs rooted in their psyche, giving them an open channel for magic and using it to boost their reflexes and strength.

' _It's the only thing that'll keep them alive, when facing so many.'_ And it's a reminder that he needs to keep himself ready for anything-

Such as an ambush in the square. He barely gets a moment to stare up at the statue and fountain, before Galbadian soldiers stream out from a blockade.

His muscles are ready, even if his mind finds itself reeling, and he remembers how to fight. To weave between the bullets and sword strikes, letting magic burn through his body and push his strength and reflexes beyond human limits-

And Robin does even better, with how her magic sparks faster than anyone can draw breath. She makes little more than a gesture, drawing from the stored spells in her mind. It's all crackling lightning and freezing ice past that.

And when the ice finally melts away, Chrom finds himself and Robin standing victorious.

"H-hey. Not bad at all." He tries to tell Robin… But she isn't focusing on him. It's like the battle haze is still lurking in her eyes, and the spells still buzzing through her brain. She can't seem to hear him, with how she turns her head up.

Chrom tries to follow her gaze. A second later, the gunfire starts all around them, echoing off Dollet's cliffs and buildings; a signal that the battle has truly been joined. He's certain that somewhere in the city, Frederick and Cordelia are in the center of the chaos. It makes him restless, knowing they're out risking their necks while he and Robin are left holding down the square-

But when he looks back down at his surroundings, he realizes it's only him in the square; Robin has vanished from her spot. He glimpses the briefest glint of a black and silver uniform turning one of the alleyways.

"Robin!?" He calls, but she doesn't slow. Chrom hesitates for only a moment, before giving chase. With luck he can find her, get some sense into her, and get them both back to the square without anyone being wiser.

Chasing Robin down, however, turns out to be easier said than done. And Quetzalcoatl must be giving her a burst in strength and speed, with how the gap stays intact; he just glimpses her dashing along one of the ancient stone bridges. The lanterns crowning it seem to almost spark from her passage, showing that there's an unnerving amount of magic left in her.

Then past the bridge comes a twisting stairway leading up a steep mountain, the rocks turning a ruddy red in the sunset. Chrom narrows his eyes; there's evidence of monsters here. Vegetation is pressed down in a trail no human would make… And beyond that, there's the half charred body of a gigantic snake littering the steps.

The taste of magic is still thick in the air, and he knows that Robin, dazed as she might be, must be capable of defending herself.

That doesn't keep him from feeling a spark of terror, when he sees her at the summit. She's collapsed against the cobblestones and rocks, with shrubs barely concealing her from sight. Chrom has to drop as well, crawl forward on his stomach, because he can see they're right on the lip of the path; beyond is a sudden drop.. And a collection of Galbadian soldiers, guarding an old and half rusted tower.

"What are they doing…?" Chrom whispers, freezing from where he crawls.

"S-something about… Power and generators. Getting that tower working again." He doesn't expect an answer from Robin; she even looks a bit surprised that she can speak, staring at him with still glassy eyes. On instinct, Chrom reaches out and grasps at her hand. Both to anchor her, and keep her from vanishing again as he takes in the situation.

"…R-Radio tower." Robin informs him. "They were calling it that… Don't know why they want to use it-"

She screws her eyes shut.

"Unless… That's been their goal this whole time. Wh-why else would they spend so many men on guarding this place, keeping Garden and Dollet forces bottled up in the city proper?"

"And we're the only people close enough to investigate." Chrom groans out. Getting back to the square before anyone notices is sounding less and less likely by the second… But he also knows that turning their backs on this is wrong. And if the Galbadians do somehow get that tower working, and cut through the radio interference… He doesn't like what that might spell for the forces down below, relying on foot and chocobo messengers instead of instant broadcast messages.

"You're planning to investigate, aren't you?" Robin asks, clear headed enough to pick out the worry on his face. "Well… You're not going alone. I-I don't know what drew me up here, but I'm feeling clear-headed enough now. I can help you."

-o-o-o-

The inside of the tower feels like a match for her head; all dark corners, humming with an odd energy that is slowly rousing from slumber. It makes little motes of magic dance along her skin, ready to get let loose again.

Robin fights back a shiver; she never thought para-magic could be so potent, OR receptive… And yet now, it feels as natural as breathing. In her haze of fighting up the mountain, she must have drawn a half dozen spells from the soldiers and wildlife.

' _I just wish I could remember WHY I did any of that. Or the details of what happened.'_ But her head is stubbornly foggy, and even Quetzalcoatl is oddly silent in her head.

"I wonder if the radio signals somehow scrambled with your magic packs. And with your head." Chrom murmurs as they pick their way through the shadows, and towards a lift.

"That… Might be what happened. If the signal on this tower is somehow boosted by magic, and is keyed into electricity and thunder spells… There MIGHT be some affinity." Robin thinks out loud. But somehow that doesn't feel like the full answer.

Why she went so hazy, or drawn to the tower… There's still an unsettling amount of blanks in her head, and this time, they aren't related to the GF curled up in the back of her thoughts.

She doesn't get much time to dwell on it, as they clamber onto the lift, and it sends them on a quick ride up to the top. Chrom stands steady as they ride up… And she hopes he doesn't mind if she leans against him a little, as she tries to breathe deep and better clear her head.

Gradually the lift rattles to a stop, and she can pick out voices speaking with a Galbadian cadence… And Chrom surging forward, drawing his blade. It forces Robin to jolt to attention, and with her eyes open she picks out two Galbadian soldiers near the control panel.

The tower hums to life around them, even as Chrom lashes at the troops. The air sings with electricity and power, lights blazing to life all around them, and the tower rumbling and spitting sparks as its parts slowly lurch to life.

"Robin! Little help?" Chrom cuts through the distractions, as he fends off one sword wielding soldier, scrambling away from a hail of bullets in the same motion. Robin snaps to attention, and focuses on the soldiers.

"Para-magic!" She calls to him, as he scrambles back to get some breathing room. She focuses on the soldier in blue, while he goes for the red. There's a field of magic bristling around the soldiers; the same aura that cloaks all living things, and they've been taught to key in on… And utilize.

' _You can draw magic,'_ she remembers instructor Cordelia, and the drone of classroom monitors. _'Store it for later use… Or utilize the energy fields, and cast on the fly.'_

Robin snaps her fingers, and the field around the soldier turns to fire. At the same moment, Chrom calls down lightning on the other. He flashes her a quick grin with wide eyes a little shocked and pleased that he was able to get a spell off in combat.

The soldiers, on the flip side, look a little dazed and smoldering from the attack… And become worse for wear when a strange, shrieking noise cuts through the air. High pitched winds scream along the control deck, throwing the enemy soldiers across the floor and off the edge.

"…I don't like the sound of that." Chrom crouches against the grates as he speaks, and Robin grabs onto his arm to help keep herself grounded. The screaming winds force her eyes upwards to the origin of the cries.

"Looks like the reports weren't kidding. This place IS a nesting ground for monsters." Chrom says, following her gaze. A weird chimera of a creatures swoops down on batlike wings, breathing smoke and stormy winds, while the stinger on its abdomen lurches about, and its long taloned hands restlessly clutch at the air. "But that thing doesn't look like something Garden has studied up on. Is that a new breed of monster-?"

He doesn't get time to finish the question, as the beast brings its claws down on Chrom. He shoves hard at Robin, and sends her scrapping across the floor. He dodges a little more slowly. For a breath she's terrified he's been gutted on those talons… But then he rolls away, leaving behind the sleeve of his uniform on the monster's claws.

"T-tried to draw some magic off that thing. Almost cost me my head." He tells Robin, before bringing his sword up.

' _He knows the blade best; just like you better understand magic.'_

Robin narrows her eyes from her new spot on the floor… Wondering at what sort of arcane field the creature is carrying around it. When she stretches out her senses, there's a strange buzzing along her brain. She realizes with a start that some of that buzzing is from her Guardian; Quetzalcoatl is reacting to something in the monster's field. Chrom keeps slicing away, keeping the brute's attention as she tries to focus on the strange spike in energy-

And she feels something react. When Robin tries to pull at the magic, she can feel something jump between the monster and her. She feels an odd humming song in her brain; something that sounds and feels like another guardian force.

"I got it, Chrom! Whatever that thing was carrying, it's ours now!"

Chrom answers her by throwing himself forward, with just enough magic left firing through his legs and arms to give him some extra strength. He's able to vault upwards, straight at the monster's head. He swipes and cuts away, a flurry of fire and smoke following each of his swings as he yanks down on the trigger with each hit. The monster can't stand up to such an assault, the blows driving it to the floor.

Robin can't help but give a grim smile at their handiwork. Now that Robin has yanked the guardian out, something seems to have weakened in the monster… So it really doesn't stand a chance when something else rattles to life and scrapes along floor. The entire radio tower seems to shake from thunderous footsteps, and Robin catches the glimpse of something shadowy and mechanical slamming into the monster. The impact throws Chrom free, and he skids to a halt alongside her.

"Galbadian mech!" Chrom hisses out, watching the two forces clash together. "And I don't know if we want that thing following us back to the station!"

Robin gives a quick hum of agreement, wondering if she can do something with the new Guardian Force nestled in her mind… And in another breath, she gets her answer. The world seems to go oddly blurry, as another entity tries to force itself into their reality; splashes of water materialize and wash over the two giants, and strange high sounds seem to pierce into them. Quetzalcoatl answers her call as well, sending a lash of bright thunder down, all but blasting Robin off her feet and onto the lift.

Chrom scrambles after her, looking over his shoulder as the flying monster overheats from the magic and breaks into flashes and explosions. She can vaguely pick out the sound of frying and short circuiting electronics, over the monster's death throes.

"I… Guess that's what happens when you overload a monster and it's magic field." Robin says, as the lift drops down. Chrom can only nod, standing over her. "But I'm pretty sure that means we don't have to worry on the Galbadians using the radio tower. Or that monster causing anymore trouble."

"Yeah, which means we'd better…" Chrom trails off, looking through the gaps of the tower. Robin follows his gaze, and pauses over the way the sun is almost touching the waves. "…Hell. It means we'd better belt back to the ships. We're running right up to the evacuation time frame."

He glances down to her.

"Can you run?"

"I think I'll need to." Robin tells him, forcing herself upright.

-o-o-o-

They need to run as it turns out… Just more than Chrom thought. They start with a jog at the bottom of the tower… Only to pause, as a strange high pitched screeching filters down from above; in a moment he picks out the screel of steel scraping against more steel. Looking up he can pick out the outline of the Galbadian mech.

"…Start running?" Robin asks. In answer he grabs her by the arm, charging forward as the mech crashes down. It rattles the ground, almost pitching Chrom face first. The mech thuds into the ground behind them, and he's pretty sure there's a new crater in its wake.

"Keep going!" He tells Robin, working up to full speed as they belt along the path. They find themselves ducking and dodging the mech. Chrom keeps his grip on Robin, cursing a little as she falters… And that seems to spur Robin on, like she doesn't want to disappoint him, even as her eyes keep blurring.

"Can you call Quetzalcoatl?" He asks, and in answer she slumps into him. Chrom finds himself having to carry Robin, and feeling an odd static along his bare arm… But in another breath, she snaps her head back up, right as the mountain peak explodes with thunder and knocks the mech back a pace. It gives Chrom just enough room to scramble down the slope and stairs, and work his way towards the city bridge.

"It's… Still catching up to us." Robin notes, looking over his shoulder. "That lightning barely slowed it down…?"

"As long as we can stay ahead of it, that's all I care about!" Chrom tells her. He hits the bridge running. The lights still flicker around them, and Chrom wonders at the odd hydraulic hiss behind them… And then needs to throw himself past the end of the bridge, as the mech comes down off its leap and tries to flatten them.

He loses his grip on Robin as they go falling and scrapping along the ground. It's Robin who finds her feet first, pulling him up as the mech seethes and blows out several of its joints.

' _At least that lightning managed to fry a few parts of it,'_ Chrom thinks as he scrambles upright. They go scrambling into the city, with the mech in hot pursuit. Even the narrow streets don't stop the thing, as it tilts to one side and braces its legs against the walls.

"Of COURSE it wall crawls, why wouldn't it!?" Chrom mutters to himself, feeling the buildings shudder all around them. Robin almost chances a look back, but he keeps her running. "Forget about regrouping at the square! We're going straight for the boats and getting out of here!"

Provided that they haven't missed the dispatch order. Chrom doesn't enjoy the idea of fighting the mech along the beaches. He gets one relieved, if pained breath, when he sees the hint of sand and the SeeD transports still waiting on the beach.

"Almost there!" Chrom urges Robin onwards, pushing her well ahead of him… Even as he can feel his own strength threatening to fail.

…And it doesn't help when the mech charges forward, sending a blast of air in its wake; it tries to bull its way through the archway. In the process it sends Chrom flying forward. A part of him thinks that he at least doesn't have to take the stairs down to the beach… But the rest of him is busy with crashing into the dirt.

-o-o-o-

Adrenaline and a hammering heart makes for one potent drug, Robin discovers. It can make her limbs and lungs all move, even when they want to give up and settle for burning. Chrom helped with some of that, urging her on; and now that the ships are in sight, she finds that she can push herself a little further-

At least until she hears the shriek of steam and crunch of brick behind her. She's already vaulted down the stairs and hit the sand thanks to Chrom shouting at her to go ahead. But the commotion makes her slow her dash across the beach, and chance a look over her shoulder…

And for a split second she sees Chrom, collapsed in the dirt as the Galbadian mech parks on the beach stair. It shakes off masonry and dust, all the sensors in its mechanical head jittering and flashing about as they try to lock onto him.

"Get up!" She desperately screams, her feet scrapping to a halt in the sand. Chrom fights upright, struggling through the sand as he tries to get into a full run… But she can pick out a slight limp in his step; a place where he landed wrong against the ground. It pushes a pained lurch into his stride. And while the mech is getting bogged down in the sand, she's still not sure if Chrom can outrun it. Or make his way to the ships.

She risks a look to the beach, seeing that the transport ship is just a lunge and a jump away for her…

…But she hesitates in running towards it. Instead her feet dig into the sand and her back bakes in the setting sun. Her body stays rooted, heedless of the shouts from the ship. A part of her hopes Frederick won't deduct too many points from her score, for failing to listen to orders.

The rest of her just wants to see Chrom make it back. She keeps her eyes fixed to him, watching him struggle for the ship even as the mech tries to trample over him, and Robin tries to urge Chrom on in turn.

"Come on, just a little further-!" She tries to tell him, to call out… Only to be cut off, as a pair of hands clap over her shoulders.

"Less watching, Robin! Chrom'd kick my ass if you were exposed out here." She hears Vaike, dragging her backwards even as she starts and struggles. The transport ship's shadow closes over her, and her feet drum against a sudden sheet of metal.

"Get your rear in gear, Chrom!" Vaike adds his voice to Robin's, urging him on… But Robin can feel the transport start to sigh and pull itself free of the sands. The waves slosh against the sides and drench the floor, making her footing slippery.

She feels a shivering along the base of her head, almost like what she felt at the radio tower. Fields of magic seem to dance across her vision, more tangible than ever before… And it's the easiest thing for Robin to reach out and harness them, as she stares at Chrom. Trying to will him to make that jump… And it's like he finds an extra ounce of momentum and strength.

Chrom's eyes widen, feeling a sudden surge as he gathers up his strength, and throws himself off the last dune and forward. He's suspended for a split second over the ocean, the mech trying to tear through the sand and slam down on him-

"N-not! Happening!" She hears Sumia cry out, followed by a burst of machine gun fire; a reminder that the heavy artillery mounted up top isn't just for show. The sharp slap and snap of gunfire jolts through Robin, and the magic flares around her, turning into a sudden explosion of lightning; the spell seems to arc off Chrom, and hits the mech for good measure.

The mechanical creature staggers, and collapses with a wrenching metallic shriek. And as the machine explodes in a hail of gunfire and sparks, Chrom completes his leap.

It's not the most glamorous landing, Robin thinks, as Chrom smacks face first into her collarbone and sends them both crashing down.

"Hey buddy… You dead?" Vaike pokes Chrom with his boot toe as he says that. Chrom groans in answer, and the same groan is echoed by Robin. Her head has gone back to feeling oddly fuzzy, and she has to wonder what caused those magic surges.

' _Something inside me reacted, called on that power…'_ And a part of her wonders if she even needed the Guardian Force, to harness that power. She's not so certain she likes that answer, or wants to dwell on it.

-o-o-o-

The ride back home is anticlimactic in comparison… Though the briefing certainly makes Chrom freeze.

"Chrom…" Frederick sighs out, as they sit in the cabin. "What are we to do with you? You're given clear orders to secure a square." For his part, Chrom can only hang his head. "And while you achieve that, then you go against orders, take the fight to soldiers, nearly annihilate a radio tower…"

"…But for all that, he also gave us extra intelligence on what Galbadia was planning. And managed to do some extra damage; there's no guarantee the forces would've been willing to talk terms, if he and Robin hadn't shaken them loose." He yanks his head up to stare at Cordelia, looking austere in her own SeeD uniform.

"So we're at a conundrum." Cordelia continues. "Do we reward you taking initiative, or punish you for disobeying orders? And no, before you ask, ignoring the entire incident isn't an option for any of us." Her eyes travel over to a corner of the transport room… And that's when Chrom realizes that Robin is standing there, shifting nervously from foot to foot. And if he feels heavy hearted, Robin looks ready to sink into the floor.

"However… We may have settled on a compromise. You won't be expelled. And in terms of battle prowess, you passed the exam with flying colors." Frederick tells them both. "However… While the two of you make a good team, you're also oddly chaotic. And having two students like you… It warrants further study and evaluation. You'll graduate to SeeD rank… But that will ONLY be conditional on the two of you continuing to work together, while Garden does further research."

He watches them both, waiting to see if there's any protest.

"I-It's better than being expelled." Chrom says, glancing to Robin. "And… I have no objections to working with Robin."

"Likewise." Robin murmurs.

"Then it's settled. And that being the case, the graduation ceremony is in just a few hours, and we should be making landfall soon enough. When we're ashore I'd return to the dorms if I were you, and switch into your new uniforms. And Chrom… Try to keep the sleeves intact this time."

' _I make no promises.'_ Chrom doesn't dare say that aloud, but gets the feeling his relieved and cheeky grin conveys that well enough.

-o-o-o-

The SeeD uniform fits easily on Robin; she's a little unnerved by how well she takes to the new outfit. The splashes of violet in particular seem to stand out; a designation that she's displayed arcane potential.

And that designation makes her unsteady; reminds her of the strange magic she unleased at the SeeD exam… And with only Chrom as her witness. Even Vaike and Sumia could only give her a bewildered blink, when she dared to bring it up; they were too focused on the gunfire, not the sudden flare of magic.

The fresh memory makes her uneasy, and the sound of the ceremony barely pierces her worry. She finds herself shrinking away from the rest of the crowds, letting the dancing and swaying figures take her to fringes of the ballroom. It all leaves her alone with her thoughts-

"Hey." Chrom's voice, however, is quite adept at piercing those thoughts. It jolts Robin back up, to see Chrom giving her a nervous smile. His own SeeD uniform places more emphasis on navy blue and silver; reminiscent of the steel sword he so favors. He glances over her markings and colors… And he seems to think of the same thing as her, when he says,

"The uniform suits you."

"Th-thank you. The same to you." She tells him. For a moment, they stand together in half companionable, half awkward silence. Until at last Chrom clears his throat.

"I-I never got to thank you. For saving my life the way you did." He keeps his voice low, but it still freezes Robin. She almost wants to bolt, to vanish into the crowd, but his gaze holds her steady.

"And… I was wondering. I couldn't help but see you haven't danced with anyone yet." Chrom continues, and Robin can only nod. "So… Could I ask you for a dance?"

There's a dozen excuses she could give; she's exhausted (partly true) or doesn't know how to dance (mostly a lie) or that she's unsure about spending such time with him… And that last one is a complete lie, as her head dips forward in a nod. Chrom rewards her with a grin, taking her by the hands and pulling her to the dance floor.

The music around them settles into a waltz, and it's the easiest thing to settle in turn into Chrom's grip and begin the steps… Or at least it would be, if Chrom was able to match her movements.

"…Chrom. Do YOU know how to dance?" Robin finds herself asking when he almost knocks them and another couple to the floor.

"Well… I got a passing grade in our dance class. That counts, doesn't it?" Robin lets out her breath in a huff, before trying to guide him through the steps. To Chrom's credit, he's a fast enough learner, and as the waltz reaches its crescendo, he's matching her step for step, spinning her out on his arm before pulling her back in… And keeping his arms oddly tight around her.

"Well. I'd say that we can upgrade that passing grade to something more." Robin says, a bit breathless. She tries to smile at him… But wonders at the sober look in his eyes.

"There's… I also needed to tell you something more." Chrom says, as the music fades out.

"I… I didn't tell anyone. About whatever you did; I'll keep your secret safe, until you WANT to talk about it." The lights dim around them, and Robin realizes the ceremony is coming to a close, and getting ready for the fireworks.

She's read a few of Sumia's favorite novels, and one of them, a story about a sorceress and her knight, feels oddly appropriate for this situation. She doesn't voice that thought out loud, however; just finds herself tilting her head forward, so her forehead brushes against Chrom's cheek as a sign of gratitude… And perhaps a silent plea that he doesn't need to let go of her just yet.

And Chrom proves himself to be worthy of the SeeD mantle, considering how well he reads the situation, and keeps his arms around her all through the fireworks.


	3. Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as, the requisite Soulmark AU. And also inspired by Stecayl's Shape By the Clearest Blue!

She doesn't understand the marks on her body… Nor why she feels a need to keep them covered. Having them exposed to the air and eyes of others feels oddly uncomfortable. And since Robin never sees the other Shepherds displaying marks on their bodies, she has to assume the same is true for them.

It takes her well over a month, before she feels brave enough to ask about the phenomena… And from an unlikely source.

"Marks, you say?" Frederick raises an eyebrow at her, suspicion and surprise both warring on his face; like he's still half expecting her to pull some manner of trick or betrayal at the end of that question. Instead, Robin elaborates.

"I was just wondering if… If there's some sort of meaning to them-" She starts to pick at the gloves around her hands. Frederick stops the motion short by clapping his hand over hers; the jolt of contact is surprising enough, but what really halts her is the surprising gentleness in his grip. Frederick still has a frown on his face, but one marred by an odd, sympathetic look in his eyes.

"I apologize for my oversight; I thought that you knew." He tells her, before explaining.

It turns out she isn't the only one with such a mark. In fact, everyone in the Shepherds carries one… And showing that mark to another person is an intimate gesture of complete trust. Because there's a chance one's mark might match someone else's.

She's not sure how she feels about that; knowing there's another person out there she has such an affinity with. But now that she knows, she starts to see new details about the Shepherds. Lissa and Maribelle tend to brush their arms together. When she dares to ask Lissa, she's told that Lissa never had a brand or mark of her own, until she met Maribelle; and that having a matching mark between them helps to make up for a lack of anything she was born with. The slap Sully gives Stahl across his back takes on a different meaning, as does the way Stahl rolls his shoulders whenever he's trying to steady himself; the two of them seem more platonic than Maribelle and Lissa, but there's still an affection between them.

It makes her trace the mark on her hand… And wonder at the way it has changed.

The first time Chrom took his hand in hers, she'd seen the six eyes staring up. When Chrom saw them, his grip wavered for a moment. He's glanced to her hands a time or two, now covered by gloves. Now she understands why; between this and the bathing tent incidents, it's a wonder she doesn't turn completely red whenever they meet up.

But what really concerns her, is the faint tear drop shape encircling her mark. Lissa's case tells her new marks can develop, if someone meets their other half. But she still doesn't understand what that means… Or why that new shape on her hand looks oddly familiar.

-o-o-o-

Chrom hates having to cover his mark.

On the one hand, it's a sign of pride among the Ylissean royal line. Emmeryn has kept hers exposed for years, showing her trust in the people around her, and her own type of courage. It makes Chrom feel like a coward for having to cover his shoulder.

But he's never had much of a choice; not with how his mark changed when he was younger. At the time, he'd just meant to slip out of the castle, to find a little excitement. He'd gotten it when he bumped into a woman and her daughter in odd robes; the two had been skittish, the mother pulling her daughter away with a rushed apology and downcast eyes. When his father's men found him, it was when he was looking into his reflection in a fountain, sleeve pulled away and wondering when his brand had gained a faint splash of violet, and the impression of eyes.

His father had raged when he saw that change; ordered him to keep his mark covered at all times, no matter how he felt suffocated by so many layers of fabric. It was only when his father died, and his world shifted, that the mark started to fade.

It made Chrom wonder if his other half had died, somewhere in the campaign… Or if they were so distant now, he'd never have a chance of seeing them again. He started to wear clothing with more of his arm exposed-

Until a few months ago, when he found Robin laying in the field. It took some time for the mark to shift; weeks spent fighting at Robin's side, shielding her from harm, wondering at the odd surge of protectiveness he felt when she threw herself into danger, or the brief swell of pride when they both emerged from a skirmish, side by side.

It was when he found himself wanting to throw his arms around her, that his shoulder had given an odd twinge. And he saw the hint of eyes, like they were opening back up along his skin.

Chrom looks over his mark in the tent again, and the flicker of violet etched into his shoulder. His father had called it 'unclean' and treated him like…

He doesn't want to dwell on it. Instead, he looks over the faint suggestion of eyes… And wonders, at how they look like the same mark on Robin's hand. And if he's just imagining the similarity between her robes, and those of the strangers from his childhood.

A part of him desperately wants to ask… But a part of him fears seeing that same disgusted look on her face, like his father once wore. He can't take the chance of being mistaken. Or of impinging on Robin's personal matters even more.

' _Isn't it enough that she caught a glimpse of your mark in the bath? Gods, it's a wonder she doesn't see you as a degenerate.'_ He sighs out… And tries not to dwell, or hold onto a fool's hope. That maybe it's only his imagination, that there'd been such a striking and memorable quality to her mark… And a similar shade of violet, to the thing twisting across his shoulder.

-o-o-o-

"There's something I need to show you." Robin can't believe the words, even as she speaks them. But she's spent most of the day finding her courage. And there's something about the moonlight tonight, and the glimpse of Ylisstol on the horizon, that makes her bold; they're returning to a new home, one that Chrom has ensured she feels welcomed in.

It feels like the least she can do, is return the trust he's extended to her.

Chrom blinks at her, from his spot at the fire. Most of the camp has either gone to bed, or decided to celebrate in the meal tent. It leaves the two of them alone, and Robin carefully takes a seat beside Chrom. She can feel him tense up beside her, and that makes her own courage falter for an instant.

"Is… That alright?" She finds herself asking. And then blabbering. "If this isn't a good time for you, then perhaps-"

"It's fine!" He yelps, almost like the fire has somehow reached out and burned him. His breath audibly rushes in and out, as he takes a deep lungful of air to steady himself. "I-I admit, I've just been… Thinking."

And sometimes scurrying away from her, Robin knows. She's seen that often enough, when she's tried to talk to him. She dares to voice that thought out loud, and sees him freeze.

"I… I don't mean to accuse you of anything. It's just that there's been something I've needed to ask you about. And I haven't had the opportunity to… Is there something wrong? Or something I've done wrong?" There's still formalities she doesn't understand; customs that make her wonder if she ever knew much about Ylisse. She remembers how Frederick clamped his hand over hers, before she could make another error.

"If I've caused offense, then-"

"N-no! You haven't done anything wrong, it's just…" He wavers for a moment; she can see indecision play it out in his face and tense up in his body, as he tries to figure out whether to draw away from her or stay put. It lasts only a spit second, before he slumps forward. "…It's just that I've been a coward."

It's the last thing she expects him to say, and he must read the surprise on her face.

"I… I've been realizing something, over the past few months. And also realized I owe you an apology. When I first saw you, I didn't realize I was looking at your mark. Or what it meant."

"Frederick said people don't normally display their marks." Heat builds in Robin's face, rivaling that of the fire.

"Unless they have a lot of confidence in themselves, or to show people something of themselves." His hand goes to his shoulders, now covered in bandages; when Robin first saw it, she'd been half worried he'd taken on an injury. Only now does she realize he might be hiding something, as well. "I used to be proud of my mark. Until people told me it had changed into something… Unclean. Something Plegian. I never understood what they meant, because it looked _right_ to me. And now I…"

He trails off, giving her a steady look, even as pink spreads across his face. His fingers shake as his hand goes up to undo the bandages, letting them fall away a little. Robin sees the flash of violet and blue underneath them… And knows exactly what she's looking at.

It's mirrored on her own hand, beneath the heavy gloves she wears, and that hand goes up to catch Chrom's fingers.

"Wait a moment." He freezes under his touch, fear of rejection showing clear across his face. Robin doesn't let that hurt look take over Chrom's expression, instead guiding his hand to hers.

"I… I told you there was something I wanted to show you, remember?" He's only able to nod at that, and make a slightly startled sound in the back of his throat. He gives her a bewildered look, almost frozen from the contact.

Robin turns her hand around, letting his thumb rest in the palm of her hand. The contact steadies her for a moment, as her other hand goes up to tug at the fingers of her glove… Only for Chrom to move his fingers up, clasping and twining with hers to interrupt the motion.

She meets his eyes for a moment, sees how his throat pulses with how fast and nervous his breathing has gone. He swallows once, giving her a desperate look, to see if he's gone too far. Instead, Robin finds herself nodding, and lets him tug at the fingers of her gloves, slowly lifting the fabric away and showing her skin.

Showing the mark underneath. The violet and blue is brilliant in the firelight… And it halts Chrom's breath. His fingers hover over hers for an instant, as understanding dawns on his face. His fingers touch against hers, followed by the palm of his hand. Then his hands close fully over hers, fingers intwining.

"I hope that mark is something you can be proud of?" Robin asks him, in a hushed voice.

His answer is throwing his arms around her, and holding her tight against him. They stay that way through the rest of the night, trading stories about their marks, the awkward glances from the baths… And what little they can remember of the past. And if Robin can't recall everything, then Chrom does an excellent job of giving her new memories and understandings of their marks.

And when the night grows too dark… They aren't in a hurry to go to bed alone, walking to Chrom's tent together. And their fingers never leave the others, Chrom brushing over Robin's mingled mark like it's a lifeline, and the most beautiful sight in all of Ylisse.


	4. Angels and Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note: this chapter contains smut, borderline wingkink, and likely some form of religious blasphemy.

Outside the cathedral, there's a war being waged. A holy dragon and infernal beast clash, rally and send their troops into battle, over and over again. Evidence of that is in the stained glass windows, showing humans elevated into divine status, champions of their respective gods; light and shadow, punctuated with blood red glass.

That's what happens outside this old, crumbling building. But in here, there's only the two of them.

Robin finds herself basking in the afterglow of their time together, languidly curled against Chrom. His snowy white wings wrap around her; when she first saw them, she was certain they were so bright they'd burn her flesh, scour away what she was with their brilliance. Instead, they're gently warm to the touch, just like the rest of him.

For his part, Chrom runs his hand up and down her back; the first time he touched the leathery wings sprouting from her hips, he'd frozen. Perhaps afraid they'd hurt him, the same way Robin had been nervous about Chrom's touch. But now, he skims his hand over them, gently splaying his fingers against the membrane. His other hand presses against the small of her back, keeping her pressed close against him.

"Everything alright?" She finds herself murmuring against his neck, and Chrom nods, brushing his chin against her cheek.

He'd been shy when they consummated their relationship. Not quite certain what to do, about the urges that pounded through him, and self conscious about showing his body to her. Even though he must have been human, once, he'd half forgotten what it meant to be born as a flesh and blood mortal.

Not that Robin can say she felt all that bold, as they slowly explored the other's bodies; sex wasn't something to take pride OR shame in, among the fell dragon's champions. Rather, a means to an end. A tool. Not an… Expression, a way of showing how she felt, to the person who held her heart. But the way Chrom looked at her, it sparked a realization in her.

The way he looks at her now, it makes her certain there's some truth behind the expression "making love." She just never thought she'd have any chance to experience it for herself.

"Relax, love." Chrom whispers, picking up on the stormy expression on her face. He gently kisses her forehead, to soothe her. He also shifts his hips, just enough that she can still feel him, filling her up. The fact that he hasn't pulled away from her, or been in a rush to break apart, makes her feel a little more certain.

"You know, you didn't really answer my question. IS everything alright with you?" She asks, trying to keep any uncertainty bottled up in her; they'd almost fallen into this, the same way he fell into her arms, after she dressed his wounds today. Even with how they lay together, she still finds herself blushing at the memory; of binding the cuts along his chest, noticing the way he crackled with life under her hands… And how they'd both leaned in closer, and found their lips meeting.

"I'm more than alright." Chrom continues, pressing a kiss to her nose. "Though I… I never thought…"

"That you'd lay with an enemy?" Robin asks. She'd never imagined it was possible, either. That she'd meet her equal on the battlefield in gleaming armor… And that she'd refuse to kill him, too impressed by his skill and his honor. He'd told the others to stand back as they fought, enforcing the duel between them. And so when she'd bested him with a quick jolt of thunder to his wings… She could only walk away from him. The next battle, the tables had turned when he sliced a cut along her forehead, blinding her with blood. And instead of pressing the attack he'd done the same, left her own forces to give her a fast, searing cauterization, and left her to lick her wounds. And the one after that… They'd both taken on wounds, both found themselves needing to retreat. And that was when, watching out for the other, they'd begun to talk. They'd even found this old ruin of a place, where they could both mend.

It wasn't much of a step up from that, to start sneaking away to meet in this place in private.

Until finally, tonight, they found themselves kissing, feeling traces of their old selves, long buried under the power they'd been burdened with.

"N-not exactly." Chrom says, interrupting her memories. "It's more that I… I never thought I'd be able to… Find someone I'd want to share this with. We don't exactly… Partner in such a way, among Naga's forces."

But for all that, he looks at her in a way that suggests he wouldn't change anything. They both lay in a nest formed from their robes and capes, unwilling to move or break apart.

"I'm glad I met you. Even if it was on opposite sides." Chrom continues, brushing his forehead against hers. "For a while, it felt like I was… Just an extension of Naga. No dreams of my own, and few thoughts besides."

Robin stills at that; it's unnerving, just how much that echoes her own experience. Building that rapport with Chrom, even as they fought, was like seeing the first glint of light after years spent underground. And now, she'd be content to stay like this, entwined with him…

…But she also knows the outside world won't wait. This cathedral is little more than a ruin, a safe haven that can't last forever.

"I… Don't want to fight you anymore." She admits, as they slowly peel apart. He slides out of her, and she gives a faint shiver at the loss. "I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt, and me standing by and doing nothing. I… I don't even know if I can go back-"

When she looks over Chrom again, her words die out. Because something has changed about him; there's a faint edge of violet on his wings now. A mix of light and shadow dancing across the feathers. With a start, she realizes the same is true for her; the edges of her own wings have taken on a soft glow, a flicker of divine light.

Chrom takes in the changes as well… And yet still, he doesn't break from her. Instead, he reaches out to gently cup her face.

"Maybe… Maybe we don't need to." His voice is soft. "Maybe there's a way that isn't fighting each other, or being locked in an endless war."

It's a surprisingly human sentiment; a middle ground between extremes. And what also surprises Robin, is how readily she agrees to it. She nods, brushing her cheek against his palm.

"If it keeps me by your side, then I'm willing to try." And maybe, become something different. There might still be a war out there, waiting for them. But this time, when they step outside to face it, it's together, fingers still entwined.


	5. Post-Apocalypse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note: this chapter is an FE:A and Digital Devil Saga fusion. So accordingly, it contains themes of war, body horror, violence, and cannibalism for the entire cast. Please keep the warnings in mind, and read according to your preferences!

Blood and rain soak her face. Robin groans from her resting place in the mud, and slowly opens her eyes to an ashen sky. It is worrying, that she can't remember how she arrived here, or why a strange fire burns its way along her hand… Or why a similar spark seems determined to settle in her heart and stomach.

Robin groans her way to her feet, looking around. Her surroundings are still the same; that mismatch of broken buildings scattered across the landscape, mingled with ancient carvings and metal. By reflex, she scans the surroundings, watching for enemies. THAT much she can remember; that this open ground is dangerous, filled with those ready to put a bullet in someone's back or head.

Though just now the scenery is unnervingly blank; little more than a gray slate meeting steely sky, save for one tall, reaching tower that claws its way into the heavens. Something in her says that place is important; that it is where all law and people of this place originate… If one can apply 'law' to a chaotic war-scape like this.

' _Junkyard.'_ Her mind finally provides a name for this place. With each breath, her thoughts become a little clearer, pulling themselves out of whatever mire she found herself in.

The stillness remains unnerving, because a part of her knows she should be hearing the never ending clatter of bullets and whine of mortar shells, along with the drumming of rain. But the area is deserted-

Save for one person, picking his way along the ruins; he also scans the horizon, and almost blunders into her, where she lays on the ground. He freezes when he sees her, hand going to the pistol at his side. And yet, he doesn't draw, instead cautiously watching her.

Robin watches him as well. The gray of his uniform is at odds with his vibrant blue hair, and the splash of orange coating his arm and chest.

"You are…?" His voice comes out halting, like he's learning how to use it again. As he watches her, his hand slowly drifts away from the gun… And for a brief moment she sees a strange spark of color flicker across his eyes.

"…What is your Tribe?" The man switches his question, eyes narrowed and the blue light fading away. Unlike the colors decorating him, those eyes are oddly blank and gray, matching his uniform.

"I…" Robin fights the dryness around her mouth, and the confusion searing across her head. "I do not… Know." The only thing she DOES know is that Tribe is important; that a person without a Tribe is unthinkable. And yet… She only has blanks in her head, and can't help but notice she lacks the splashes of orange that decorate the man's uniform.

"Leader." Comes a flat voice from behind the stranger. He turns to it, as a taller man with stern features and earthen colored hair splashes through the mud. "Have you found answers?"

"Negative." The first man says. "No source for that light-"

"L-light?" Robin asks, barely able to get the words out before a memory flares through her head; of observing a skirmish between two Tribes, one that she's certain this man leads. There'd been plenty of gunshots, as the two sides warred, shot and bled each other, all for the sake of attrition… And claiming perhaps another stretch of barren ground.

And then came a blinding flash of light, as strands of energy twisted through the sky and pierced the hearts of everyone… Including her. And the only thing that followed was a sudden, frenzied feeling, accompanied by screams, roars, and a feeling of too sharp teeth budding in her mouth and hungry for prey-

It all makes her chest lurch, and her hand give another painful jolt.

She looks down to it, and sees a mark staring back at her. One she KNOWS was not there before, patchwork as her memory is. Six eyes frame a strange, fanged set of jaws. When the others move around her, she sees they have similar black marks decorating their skin.

"Chrom?" The Tribe leader before is finally given a name. "Is this one of ours?"

Chrom's companion narrows his eyes on her, as he fails to pick out any paint on her clothing.

"Or an enemy." He brings the heavy rifle at his side around, angling its sights on her.

"STOP." Chrom's voice lashes out, freezing his soldier in place. "Frederick, look at her. She must be Tribeless."

"That still makes her a threat, sir."

"Or an ally. Our Tribe is still young. And still needs new numbers." As he speaks, he moves towards her… And deliberately puts himself between Robin and Frederick. Exposing his back to her. Robin's breath moves in a hiss, the same time Frederick does the same. No one EVER puts their back to a stranger in the Junkyard.

And yet, he has no hesitations.

"You… Trust me?" Robin murmurs. That word, 'trust' sits strangely on her tongue. Like it is a word seldom heard or spoken. Chrom turns to her, also blinking over the word.

"I suppose I do." He finally says. And to add to the strangeness, stretches a hand out to her. His lieutenant Frederick can only watch, making a slight sputtering sound; a reminder that helping people stand upright is also an anomaly. In the Junkyard, one is expected to stand or fall on their own strength.

When Robin takes the offered hand, she feels strength in Chrom's fingers. And wonders at the warm quality to his skin; it seems to seep into her own, and subdues the odd gnawing feeling churning through her.

"On your feet." Somehow, that sounds… Encouraging is the word, Robin thinks. Rather than sounding like an order. Still, she rushes to obey.

"My… My thanks, sir."

"'Thanks…'" He murmurs for a moment, testing the word, before shaking his head. "Too many new factors. Come with me; we cannot linger here. We need answers, on what happened."

He begins to march, and it's the easiest thing for Robin to fall into step alongside him. He's heedless of the rain misting around them, running in rivulets down his bare arms. His skin is surprisingly free of blood, either his own or his enemies.

"What were you doing?" She finds herself asking him.

"Border skirmish, before that light washed over us." Chrom tells her, not breaking from the march. "Between the Shepherd Tribe, and the Plegian Tribe. We want to investigate wherever that light came from. See if we can find answers for whatever… THAT was." He grimaces, going to where his uniform has been torn away at the shoulder. Robin gets a better view of his own mark. An odd teardrop shape, with the slightest impression of talons or teeth dripping off the bottom.

"Frederick and I came to, at the very fringes of the combat zone. It seems the same happened to you, and my own soldiers. I want to get back to the fight, evaluate what happened. Or if we managed to kill Plegia's Tribe leader, and can claim the Tribe remnants for our own."

"Who is-?" Before she can finish the question, a familiar sound rattles her ears. Gunfire. She throws herself flat, pulling Chrom down with her as bullets smack into slabs of concrete and coat them with dust.

"…I will take that as a sign their leader Gangrel is still alive." Chrom mumbles, chancing a look over the ruins. Robin looks as well, and sees a long, blasted area stretching out below them. In the center sits a crater… And lining the ground around the crater are tendrils of the same, eerie white light.

They've found the epicenter of whatever happened to them.

"WELL! So the rabble decides to show themselves again!" The gunfire halts long enough for a voice to ring out. Further down the battle field, Robin can see a man with blood red hair, his uniform decorated with splashes of yellow and red. Even from this distance, Robin can see the glint of white teeth in his face.

"So _kind_ of you to make another appearance!" The emotions Gangrel brandishes are like a scream in her ears. They are too violent, too vivid, and she winces against the harsh, hysterical laugher shrieking out of him. "I was starting to starve, you know. And you've brought such a lovely new morsel to me."

She does NOT care for the way he leers at her, or the strange, greedy light in his eyes. She also wonders at his words… And at the strange gnawing feeling that claws at her insides, when he talks about starving.

"Sir." Frederick pitches his voice from where he crouches. "I can see some of our own survived the skirmish, and the outbreak. They can attack on your signal."

"N-not yet." Chrom grits out. Robin risks a glance back to him… And wonders at the odd way his shoulder twitches. His mark seems to pulse against his skin. In another breath, she feels her own mark doing the same, turning into a brand that burns at her hand.

"Come on, come on!" Gangrel's voice cuts at them. "Don't you WANT to use the gift we've been given?"

"Talk sense!" Chrom snaps back, and Robin can hear a hint of impatience coloring his voice. "What are you doing back here?"

' _And why has he ordered all his soldiers to stop firing?'_ Robin wonders.

"Oh my… The Shepherd leader is still in the dark. Well then… Allow me to educate you." Gangrel stands up, grinning at them and almost daring them to shoot. He holds up his hand, and Robin can make out another black mark emblazoned on his wrist.

"After that light shot through us, everyone went mad. Beautifully so." He tells them. "You tore into my men, and they tried to slaughter you in turn. I lost track of who I killed, sad to say… But I'm more than ready to give this another try!"

His brand pulses, as strands of light begin to spread across his skin. They echo the light from before, save for that fact that they also mirror the color of his hair; it almost looks like blood coats his hand and arm. Gangrel's grin turns predatory… And he all but blurs across the battlefield. Chrom draws his gun to fire, but the bullets can't seem to score a hit on him, until at last he barrels down on the two.

"Time to die, and to dine." He leers over them, and snaps a hand out at Chrom, digging his finger's into Chrom's throat. Gangrel wrenches the other leader up, letting him hang off his figners as Chrom's feet uselessly kick at the air.

As Chrom struggles, the mark on his shoulder glows as well, bleeding blue across Chrom's skin. Robin's own brand is burning, and screaming at her to stand up… And to fight. She doesn't have any guns of her own to fight with… But she does have teeth.

She does little more than bare those teeth, before sinking them into Gangrel's shoulder, right at the join of neck and muscle. He drops Chrom with a shriek, as blue light overtakes Chrom. Robin feels her own body burning… And _changing._ The churning, yawning feeling tears through her body, reshaping it with wrenching force. Her skin turns to scales, her claws to talons, and she feels a strange snap across her heart, as another mouth tears itself open along her chest, teeth piercing through her flesh. Her jaws crack and pop, turning into a large, gaping maw; something almost… Draconic, for lack of a better word.

Her body is changed, twisted into a monster. And on the ground, she can see Chrom twisting as well, bone like blades unfolding from his arm as he fights his way to his feet.

Through it all, she feels a yawning hunger. It makes her first mouth bite down on Gangrel, trying to saw through flesh and tear it free from his body.

And yet Gangrel doesn't scream. Instead, a mad laugh rushes out of him, turning into a feral snarl. His body twists underneath Robin, turning into a hulking creature with too many limbs. Strange, serpentine strands unfurl from his body, dripping what looks like poison from the ends. They all snap around Robin, yanking her off the thing that used to be Gangrel and shooting white hot pain through her skin. She's thrown free from Gangrel, first skidding along the ground, then rolling over her shoulder, and finally digging her new claws into the mud to bring her to a stop… Right at the edge of the crater.

Her senses have changed. Twisted… And Robin realizes that she's experienced this sight before. When the light pierced through her, planted this strange power in her… And warped her body in the process.

Across the grounds, she makes out Chrom… Or at least the creature that used to be him. He looks twisted up, his skin shifted to boney ridges and scales much like her own, his eyes vanished beneath a crown of horns, and his longer, sharper, teeth all showing. But his new form also has plenty of strength, charging Gangrel with a furious howl and making him bleed. The swords sprouting from his arms easily cut into the monster, shearing off the poisonous tendrils.

' _S-stop…'_ There's still something human in Robin, but it can't raise its voice above the howls and snarls.

Through the chaos, the sounds of screams both human and monstrous… She picks out something else stirring behind her. There's a soft gasp of breath, like the thing behind Robin is learning to breathe for the first time-

Gangrel, or the remnants of him, shrieks in response, lurching towards Robin, and whatever is behind her. And even through her hunger, and the bloodlust blinding her thoughts, Robin can manage one decisive action. She anchors her claws into the ground, refusing to break from her new place… Or expose the thing faintly gasping behind her back.

"That…" Gangrel's remnants hiss out and seethe. "That will do… As a morsel. Give me that CHILD-"

She bristles at the words… And so does Chrom. He lunges with Gangrel, catching scent of the blood choking the air. He springs onto Gangrel, knocking him off his feet. As the two monsters roll and slide down the hill, towards the glowing crater… Robin tenses, ready to pounce.

She throws herself forward when Gangrel gets to close to the crater.

While Gangrel tries to dig claws into Chrom, he turns his head away from Robin; and that's when she sees it. When she bit into him as a human, she tore away a chunk of him. And that part still looks raw and red, missing the armor that coats them all. The scent of blood is strong, coming off that wound, and it fills her mind with a bloodlust.

She doesn't think; just bites down savagely, and then twists her head to the side. And Gangrel's life comes away in her jaws.

' _Stop-!'_ A tiny part of her desperately pleads, as her teeth close and tear, close and tear, and stain her throat red. She's going to fade away from this, Robin knows. Nearby she can hear wet ripping noises as the other monster tears into Gangrel's corpse, and knows Chrom is fighting and losing that same battle-

Over the sickening noises, however, comes a voice. A human voice, soft compared to the shrieks and sounds of battle all around them.

And that voice, it has the same soft quality as the breaths from before.

"Shanti," the voice calls out. Robin lifts her head, to see a form standing up in the crater; she's clad in little more than a gray scrap of cape, which tangles in turn with her long hair, tinged in a blue so dark it could almost be black.

' _She's… Singing.'_ The human part of her says, somehow louder and stronger than it had been before. The changes gripping her body all melt away thanks to that song, and the mad haze lifts from her mind. Robin collapses to her knees, as the singer gently picks her way across the ruined ground, finishing her song at last as she kneels next to Robin and Chrom.

' _Chrom… He's alive too?'_ And human, judging by that confused groan. Somehow, he's managed to keep his feet.

"A-are you both okay?" He stands over her, staring down at the two… And with a sudden blue light flooding his eyes.

"Yes." Robin tells him, caught up in his gaze. "What… Was that?"

"…I think it's the same as Gangrel said. Something about that light… It did something to us." Chrom shivers as he speaks. Something else has shifted in him, along with that transformation. Robin can feel it as well; it's like something has been pried open in her mind and heart, both. There's a sudden intensity to everything she feels; horror at what just happened, surprise at the young girl kneeling next to them… And a strange, poignant sense of relief that the two next to her are safe.

"Who… Are you?" She asks the girl.

"Lu…Lucina." There's something familiar to that name. Something that stirs an odd, protective twinge in Robin's heart. More so as the girl slumps against her, tired after everything; it's an instinct different from devouring that Robin feels then. She wraps her arms around the girl, in a gentle gesture.

"And… I've come to help you." The girl's voice is soft, like she spent all her strength with that song, and helping Robin and Chrom shift back. The chaos of the fight has died around them as well, and she can see more human forms among the ruins, instead of monsters.

There's so much she wants to ask… But for now she can only cling onto the girl Lucina, and reach for Chrom, desperately glad that they're still human. And still breathing. Chrom sees her reaching hand, and catches it up in his own.

It shouldn't help, considering what they just went through. The rational part of Robin's mind knows that. But she can only cling onto Chrom, and let the strange relief surge through her, and soak into her very being; stronger than any rain that pours down around them.


	6. Hospital

Robin knows this won't be a good day, when she wakes up to an IV in her arm, a collection of beeping medical equipment around her… And no memory of how she's gotten there. In fact, her mind is a frightening collection of blanks, like something has been torn out of her. The one thing she has is a sudden flare of panic, driving her to try and fight her way up and out of bed.

The wires and tubes snag on her skin, prompting a pained yelp out of her-

And hands on her shoulders stop her from any more struggles.

"Hey, take it easy!" A voice stills her the rest of the way, and she finds herself looking from the hands and arms, to see a young man looking back at her. He looks like he's swallowing a bit of panic as well, as he looks over her and checks the equipment. "You're lucky to be alive; let's try not to land you back in the emergency room, okay?"

"S-sorry, Chrom. I panicked, and…" She trails off, wondering at why she knows the name.

' _Chrom?'_ She tests the name out in her head; and almost as a reward for using her mind, gets one flash of memory; of a figure in white standing over her, alternately begging and telling her to stay alive, even as she bleeds out. He'd been terrified when he stood over her, babbling, and even blurting out his name to try and get her to focus on him.

"You… Pulled me out of a wreck." She narrows her eyes, trying to focus on the blurry images. "I was hurting and you… Did something about that-?"

He nods, and in the process runs his hands over her arms and the equipment. Robin follows them, noting the ornate style of the syringes and tools around her. The needles seem almost carved from filigree, while the fluid containers are formed with glass and embossed with fine materials. She narrows her eyes at them, wondering at all the fine material.

Chrom notices her questioning look. In response, he rolls up his sleeve to show a mark on his skin; a tear drop shape the mimics the carved patterns on the equipment. And that mark gives an odd silvery glow; she can almost taste magic in response.

"White… Mage?" The word spills onto her lips, and Chrom gives a nod. In the same moment, he finishes tracing his hands over the equipment, and Robin watches them give a soft glow in response. The IV in her arm gives an odd twinge, though not at all uncomfortable. And the points where her skin was yanked stop aching.

"Usually we prefer the term 'healers.'" Chrom tells her. "But… Yeah. You were in such critical condition… We figured you needed a little arcane boost."

"S-sorry if I made you worry." Robin rasps out.

"I'm just glad you're in once piece… At least mostly. I've never seen that much blood before." Robin tries not to go sick at that description; looking at her limbs, there's evidence of trauma, thanks to the bandages, and fading scar tissue.

"I… Also never had to use my training like that, before." She takes in Chrom's appearance; the hospital scrubs, along with another teardrop shape on his sleeves. He traces his thumb of the symbol.

"I'm not exactly a healer, the same way my sisters are. But I've been trying to learn how to channel, and use magic… And it's a good thing, too. I don't know if you would've survived otherwise. N-not that I doubt your fortitude, it's just-"

"Wait." Robin held her hand up, both to stall him and keep her head from spinning. "Just… What exactly happened? And why can't I-?" Her head gives a twinge, like there's needles digging into her skull. As he watches her flinch, understanding dawns on Chrom's face.

"I was warned this might happen." He continues, in a lower voice. "You were in an accident… One that only you walked away from."

As he talks, she gets more flickers of memories; of a half burning wreck of a car, and the harsh bite of asphalt digging into her bleeding skin. A broken man is slumped against the wheel… And she can't help but be glad he is no longer digging his fingers into her, yelling threats and commands. He'd been so busy with his barbed words, he never saw the oncoming truck.

Chrom takes a deep breath, and Robin finds herself doing the same to steady herself. "And on top of that, you lost a lot of blood in the process. I think the trauma caused you to forget."

He lowers his eyes at that; and even with all his eagerness, there's an uncertain quality to his posture.

"I… Remember bits and pieces, but not much else."

"With luck, it might all come back to you. I've… Never seen anything like that before. And it makes me wonder if I'd been just a little more experienced, then maybe you'd be… More whole, instead of all broken up-"

"At the moment, I'm alive." Robin finds herself pointing out. She finds herself savoring the ability to breathe; she can just remember fighting for breath, feeling a horrible metallic taste in her throat and clogging her lungs… Followed by a blaze of white light, flushing the struggle out of her system. "And I… Can just remember a bolt of magic, keeping me alive. That was you, wasn't it?"

He nods, still blushing a bit. Perhaps still doubting his abilities. And Robin tries to distract him from that.

"And since I'm still here… I can focus on the rest, on recovering everything, later on." He brightens at that, giving an enthusiastic nod; and Robin already has the feeling she won't be tackling those problems alone.

-o-o-o-

Chrom shuts the door behind him, wondering at the left over sparks of magic firing through his system. He gazes at his hands, feeling a frown crease his face. His magic feels like it's been given a sudden surge, ever since he saw their newest patient laying on the ground.

He'd been terrified, when he first saw her; there was a broken quality to her

"Well. Looks like you've come into your own." His sister's voice makes him jump, and he barely manages to choke down a yelp as he whirls to face Lissa. She favors him with a grin, though with a slight glint of approval showing in her eyes. "I mean it; normally you're pretty ham handed with the equipment, but this time…"

"…This time, it was like the metal was sparking under my hands. And…" He glances from Lissa, back to his hands. "And I could finally feel a little of what you and Emmeryn call on."

"Oh, I'd say that was MORE than a little." Lissa tells him. "Knew that you had a spark of magic in you, too!"

He can only bow his head at that, feeling a little self-conscious. It's true; he's gotten the mark emblazoned on his skin, showing his potential as a healer. But up until now, he's only managed small sparks of power. Little jolts to help his sisters heal wounds, or mend minor scrapes and lightly bruised bones.

So the fact that he's manifested so much power, and pulled someone back from the brink… It leaves him both exhilarated and humbled. And wondering what other surprises this patient might be capable of.

-o-o-o-

There's no shortage of problems to face, as the weeks slowly go by. Starting with figuring out how to get out of bed. But through it, Chrom is ready to act first as her legs, getting her out of bed and to the hospital equipment. The wheel chairs they keep here are just as ornate as the rest of the equipment, likely to better channel the lambent magic that suffuses this place.

It still takes some time to get used to sitting in such a thing, though.

"I half feel like a princess." Robin jokes, the first time she sits in one. Chrom just gives her a quick grin… And it makes her wonder if he half agrees with that. She feels a little too shy to press the idea, however; and she also reminds herself that generally, princesses don't wear hospital gowns.

They also likely have better memories, than just flashes of pain and twinges of discomfort, and heart-deep flinches whenever she tries to think back. It feels like some scars run deep, even with the care she's given.

Chrom manages to distract her a little from that, and wheel her about, giving her a grand tour of the Ylissean hospital; she gets to meet a few more of the healers, and learn their names. Her mind seems hungry for information, and sets to memorizing the rule and order of this place quick enough.

The senior healer here is Emmeryn, and she shows a knack for knitting bones. She's shown up at Robin's bedside a time or two, instructing Chrom on how to work his own talent and powers on her. There's also a pair of healers, Libra and Lissa, and the former always seems to be trying to impart lessons on the latter.

Each time she meets the other healers, Robin learns a little more about the odd magic they wield… And its limits. While she can feel strength slowly flow into her, whenever Chrom focuses on her wounds, each session leaves him looking pale and drained. When Chrom heals her, it takes something out of him in turn.

"I… Still have a lot to learn." He tells her one evening, as he helps her out of the chair and into bed; as always, his touch is gentle, and almost nervous about dwelling too long on her. This time it had been Libra who stopped by, to guide him on mending Robin's bones. "Emmeryn is on another level, when it comes to mending wounds together… But there's a lack of compatibility between you and her. Maybe it's because I rushed into taking care of you, and ruined any chance of building up some resonance-"

She takes the risk of reaching out, and resting her fingers over Chrom's lips.

"Do I need to remind you again-?"

"That you're glad to just be alive." Chrom mutters from under her touch. "I just wish I wasn't so limited with healing. If it were my sister, you'd already be mended."

She isn't quite certain how to tell him that, even with that praise for Emmeryn, she doesn't mind being with him. It helps to fill the void in her head; they've tried checking records, only to find dead ends.

It makes her wonder who she'd been. She tries not to feel too lonely about that prospect… And instead focuses on the immediate staff around her. They seem willing enough to help her recover.

Then one morning, Chrom is also ready to be her courage, taking her from the wheelchair and to a new room.

"Now that we've mended all the tendons and muscles, you need to learn how to use them." He tells her. "There's this room we have people walk along. And once you do a circuit of it, we know you're properly building the strength in your legs."

Once sees it, Robin finds herself stuck to the wheelchair, almost deforming the grips under her hands with how she clutches at them. The room itself is brilliant enough, sunlight streaming through ceiling to floor windows. She counts at least ten of them, with gardens on either side; it should all feel relaxing, but instead comes across as daunting, and something she knows her legs aren't up for.

Her vision tunnels when Robin tries to look down to the other side. She can't even pick out the doorknobs or catches on the windows on the far end.

"Chrom… I can't do this." She tells him, shrinking back. Though the idea of staying confined to a wheelchair and not being allowed to leave the hospital doesn't fill her with confidence, either.

"What about doing it just one step at a time?" He asks, voice gentle. It gets her to relax a little, so she isn't shrunk into the chair.

"You don't have to tackle this place all at once, promise. We're just trying to build up your muscles."

It's a tall order all the same, considering how her legs are shaking. But she lets him guide her up, and take the first steps-

With the first steps being the best she can manage.

As she tries to move, she can feel scar tissue aching and burning along her legs. It shoots a feverish haze into her head in turn… And a reminder of the car wreck. She can almost feel the heat of flames on her face, and hearing that strange, sinister man screaming at her. Cursing her for being weak, as she bleeds.

' _Small wonder you didn't have the strength to help him.'_ Robin thinks, shame trying to drag her down to the floor.

Her legs are already trembling, and she only manages to walk to the first window. She's ready to collapse… But instead of turning her back, Chrom puts her hands on a pair of filagree railings, the things bracketing her on either side like a pair of long, reaching crutches.

"They'll take your weight." He tells her. "Try to make it halfway around the room."

It's a tall order… But Robin finds it hard to say no to him. Even as she hears the curses from the car wreck, calling her weak-

"You're doing great! Give it another step!" Chrom tells her, drowning out those feverish memories. And it keeps Robin going; on the first try, or the second and third tries.

They average a trip to the walking room at least once a day. And each time, she finds herself able to go a little further.

' _You just don't want to disappoint him, do you?'_ A part of her wryly observes. But it's hard not to warm up to him, particularly as he offers up a little more about himself each day. Partly to keep her mind off the strain and pain, but also because Robin finds herself curious about him.

She learns that he's the middle child of three siblings, though he looks up to both his sisters.

"Lissa has more healing aptitude than I do." He tells her one day, while massaging her legs; her skin gives a slight tingle, and she can tell he's been working magic to try and strengthen her limbs. "She can mend broken limbs without breaking a sweat… I can only manage triage. And… Maybe it would be best if she took over-"

"You keep selling yourself short." This time Robin finds herself encouraging him. "I'm sure your sisters are talented, but…" She tells herself not to blush, wish mixed results. "You know, you DO have a good and charming bedside manner."

Chrom does an even worse job, keeping his blushing under control

"Ah… Thanks. And if you're not getting sick of me, then I guess I'm doing my job okay." Robin gives a soft chuckle at that.

-o-o-o-

He's half convinced Robin is ready for a more talented healer. Each time he sees her again, he braces for a request to send in someone else… But that request never arrives. Instead, she brightens up each time she sees him. Like he's a highlight of her day.

' _Like I'm a true healer.'_ And whenever he's in her company, Chrom finds himself believing that as well. It's like he's capable of helping others, instead of continuing on any legacy of pain. Not like his father, and the families the man left broken in his ambitions. Using the man's fortunes to open up a place to heal, there's a certain poetic justice to it.

And now that he's manifested his own magic… Chrom feels all the more confident about this choice.

There is, however, one uncomfortable wrinkle to the situation; and it's that the worry he feels a bit TOO confident around Robin. And too friendly around her. He worries that he's overstepping some sort of boundary, even as he comes into his own.

-o-o-o-

She loses track of how many days she spends, learning to walk again. But in time, a new energy fills her up.

And she gets even more determined, when Chrom and his sisters show up in her room one afternoon. Chrom has a wild grin on his face, like he can barely contain some sort of news.

"W-we figured out who you are!" He blurts out, while his little sister gives him a sharp look.

"I thought we agreed I was going to tell her." Lissa grumbles, before clearing her throat. "Robin… It looks like you've got some sort of surviving family. Though I'm guessing that man in wreck wasn't keen on you connecting with them."

At Robin's confused look, she continues. "This man… Validar. He has some connections to some unsavory stuff. Though he did a pretty good job of covering his tracks." Robin notices the past tense, and gives Lissa an inquiring stare. "He… Didn't make it through the crash, Robin. It looks like his actions finally caught up to him. And maybe that's a good thing-"

"Lissa!" Emmeryn admonishes.

"What!? It's true; with everything that guy did-!" She cuts off, catching Robin's startled look.

"But…" Robin shrinks into her bed. "But that man felt… Familiar. Almost like he was…" She wonders if this is where he luck runs out; if it's time for the healers to turn her out, now that everyone has discovered who she is.

"…Like he was family?" Chrom finishes for her, losing that eager look. He shakes his head at that. "If we treated your father as a black mark on you… We'd likely need to surrender our job as healers as well."

"Our father was not the most… Ethical of politicians, or of nobles." Emmeryn speaks up, her voice low. "We've been trying to make up for his deeds. And what we wanted to tell you is that also-"

"HEY. I'm supposed to tell her, remember?" Lissa cuts in, before turning to Robin. "The thing is, it looks like you have more family, one city over. We managed to find that you have a mother… And she's grateful you're alive." Lissa winces at that, rubbing at her ears. "Actually, we also found out she can really cheer through the phone, if she's happy enough. With luck, we can get her over here, to reunite with you."

Robin can only gape at that.

"A-and if she is going to come here…" Then Robin wants to be capable of standing up to meet her.

That determination stays with her, through the evening and into the next day. She can feel it from the moment she wakes up, and it makes even Chrom pause. That same energy helps her lift her feet… And easily make it halfway around the room before she has to pause.

"Not bad at all," Chrom tells her, admiration in his voice… And that keeps her going, until she completes a full circuit of the room. It's worth it, with how gives her a pleased grin.

"Does this mean I'll be discharged soon?" She's half eager to step back outside… But also hesitating at the notion that she might be saying goodbye to him.

"Now that we know you can support yourself, it shouldn't be much longer. Though it would be nice if we could keep doing checkups. Though you might want someone else-?"

Robin frowns at that, wondering at how he suddenly seems eager to put some distance… And he must read some of that in her face.

"I-I just worry that you might be getting sick of me. Or that I… Might be too enthusiastic, or coming on too strong with wanting to help you. Just because we're healers, and supposed to support our patients doesn't mean we should get… Well, TOO attached."

He ducks his head, and Robin reaches out to brush at his face, and try to lift his head back up. The tips of her fingers burn when they touch his face… And she realizes how red he is.

"What if I told you that I wasn't sick of you? Or that couldn't be further from the truth?" She asks; wondering if maybe the magic sparking through her gives her an extra surge of courage. "I'd… Honestly love to spend more time with you. And as for being too attached… What does it mean if the attachment goes both ways, and it helps with recovery?"

Chrom lifts his head, and in the process Robin's fingers card through his hair. The touch, however, seems to encourage Chrom with speaking.

"Then… I suppose practicality takes precedence. If you're sure-"

"Well, after teaching me how to walk, I'm curious to see what else I can learn from you. Starting with how you manage to smile like that."

In response, he brushes his fingers over hers, and Robin feels a bright, almost swelling sensation in her heart. And thinks she might already have learned a little more from him.

This wasn't such a bad series of days, as it turns out.


	7. Childhood Friends

Chrom writhes about like a worm on a hook; not the most becoming behavior for a prince, but right now he doesn't care. Maybe if he struggles enough, his father will give up on this as a lost cause and let him go.

"We have new guests… And you WILL act the part of a prince around them." His father's words have a growl to them, and leave no room for argument. They also stop his squirming short. Chrom wonders if he might have any luck with slinking off to find Vaike or Sully; the two are likely somewhere beyond the city walls…

…But Duran's hand rests heavy on his shoulder, his father not allowing him any chance to protest. A sullen part of Chrom wonders if the lack of war makes his father anxious, and the man takes out all of that on HIM… But he also doesn't dare voice it aloud, or interrupt Duran.

"They've journeyed far, and will help to round out the mages in our court… In exchange for our protection." And likely give Ylisse emergency power against other nations, knowing how his father approaches diplomacy.

"As such, they'll be made to feel welcomed. They have a child your age…" Chrom scrunches his face. Just because there's a kid his age doesn't mean they'll be fun to be around. With his luck, they'll either be whiney and prone to crying like Lissa, or frustratingly aloof like Emmeryn. "She's known as Robin, daughter to the archmage Morgana, and is to be a peer of yours. So stop dragging your feet, and ACT like you're an heir to the throne!"

The hiss in his father's words jolts Chrom forwards, into the throne room. Into the sea of a thousand faces, all painted in courtly makeup and looking strange around him… Save for two strangers in the center of the room.

Except that they're not strange at all. Chrom gapes at them, knowing he's seen them before; less than a moon ago, when he'd managed to sneak outside the palace. He'd met them in the streets of the city for just a moment; it had been little more than bumping shoulders with the girl, picking up her book where she'd dropped it with an apology, and then having her mother whisk her away. At the time, they'd been full of a nervous energy.

Now, they look more like creatures in a cage, and he wonders just how willing they are, to be the honored guests of his father.

That fades away when the girl looks at him, and her mouth drops open. She slips past the grip of her mother and dashes towards him… Only to not realize just how well polished the floor is. She doesn't stop in time, skidding straight towards him. They both fall over with a crash, splayed across the marble of the floor.

Chrom walks away from that encounter with a bloody nose, and a new friend.

-o-o-o-

A year passes. He goes from the summer seasons of showing Robin around the palace grounds and daring her to steal treats from the kitchen, to dour fall. The leaves fall outside, and indoors Chrom finds himself locked in a single room and told to begin his studies in earnest.

He doesn't get how Robin can focus on her studies so well, when he wants to nod off just a few pages in. After the third reprimand from his tutors in the span of an afternoon, Robin takes pity on him.

"Read it aloud to me?" She suggests, and Chrom gives her a confused stare. "It'll help you focus. And when you're done, I'll take the next page. We'll get through it one page at a time."

Their tutor doesn't seem to mind, focusing instead on Emmeryn's progress. (Which is already leaps and bounds beyond his own.) And if it'll help pass the time in something other than a bored haze, Chrom is willing to give it a try. He picks up the book, giving the script a brief look of distaste. How a scholar could turn the story of the first Exalt into such a dry slog, he doesn't know.

"A…And so, the First Exalt journeyed through fire and war to find the dragon-god, Naga. To beseech her aid…" Under Robin's eyes, he finds himself reading a little louder, to make sure she hears. And to his surprise, when he reaches the end of the page, he isn't ready to stop. He clears five more, finally coming to the end of the chapter and finishing with the fall of the fell dragon.

He looks up, feeling proud of himself… Only to see that all his discomfort and squirming seems to have shifted to Robin. Her eyes are downcast, focused on the gloves covering her hands. Dimly, Chrom remembers that she was wearing gloves the day he met her, and usually favors some form of covering for her hands.

"Hey?" He tries, reaching over to give her a quick tap on the shoulder. She almost flinches under his hands, before realizing where she is.

"Ah… Good job." She tells him instead. Their tutor has also taken note, and praises Chrom for finishing. By then the class is wrapping up, the outdoors and training field are calling him, and he's all but forgotten Robin's odd behavior.

-o-o-o-

Another turn of the seasons pass. He spends more and more time in the practice field, heedless of the cold. The occasional touches of snow don't bother Chrom, as his father seems to approve of him being proficient with a blade. But on the flip side, it seems to worry Robin and her mother.

"You really enjoy fighting?" She risks saying one afternoon.

"It's what my father does." Chrom answers. "And… He keeps asking if I want to wield Falchion. I've seen that blade before. Gods know, I've learned its history thanks to you. And if I could be worthy of such a weapon, then…"

Robin frowns at that, but she doesn't argue with him.

"…I just worry you might fall behind in your studies." Robin says, nodding to a pile of neglected books he's dropped on a training bench.

"Maybe you can read them to me?" He half jokes when he suggests that… But instead, Robin gives a nod. And after just a few moments, Chrom wonders how he ever managed to train without her. He times his sword swings to her words, learning more about the first Exalt.

-o-o-o-

When the new year arrives, change comes with it.

His father has been spending less time in the capital, and more along the borders. Chrom hears rumors; that his father has been inspecting and building forts, agitating their neighbor Plegia. He hears some of the reports from Robin's mother, who always becomes more and more uneasy when she reads the letters from the border.

As he matures, Chrom finds himself dealing with a new form of growing pains; etiquette classes.

Over the past year, he's gone from squirming at the idea of romance to feeling oddly aloof. Speaking to women in the court is a rigorous, almost ritual process. Rather different than speaking with Robin.

When he brings that up, she stills at the words… And looks almost like she's been struck.

"…You… Don't consider me a lady?" Her voice comes out soft, while Chrom's mind scrambles to figure out just what he said wrong.

"I-it's just… It's easier to talk with you. I don't need to worry about causing offense… Or at least I thought that was the case-" He finds himself quieting. Robin gives him a half hurt, half angry look, before spinning away on her heel.

His emotions are a roil as he turns his back on her, going back to the royal suites. He passes the main hall… And pauses when he hears voices on the other side of the doors.

"You treat my daughter like she's a caged animal-!" He recognizes Robin's mother.

"And you expect her to be a noblewoman. She's anything BUT that." He freezes at his father's voice… And the venom behind his words. "I should have known what sort of monster you're harboring, when you first begged for sanctuary. I could have put you both down… Instead, I've allowed you to live, safe from the fanatics of your country. And now, I want to see my kindness repaid."

"But taking her to battle-?"

"Do you honestly think your child is fit for much else, then being a weapon? At least I can recognize that, with my own blood." Somehow, Chrom knows he's also part of the subject… And hearing his father talk at him like that makes his head spin. His father is without pity for any of his subjects, as he keeps speaking. "There's a fever pitch growing in Plegia. They need to be put down, before they turn their anger and fervor onto us. And you and your daughter are the equal of any war mage… And, my son needs to learn how to wage a war against hostile nations."

That spinning sensation bleeds down from his head and leaves him sick, as he listens. It's a wonder that he manages to stagger back to his rooms, and collapses into his bed. He tries not to cry, but a strange sorrow follows him into his dreams.

' _He sees you, and your friend as weapons. Nothing more.'_

When he wakes, it is to a changed world, and plans for an invasion along the border.

-o-o-o-

It takes months to reach the edge of Ylisse, as Duran makes plans to rally around a fortress right in the mountain passes.

The entire time, Robin keeps her eyes downcast. Chrom isn't permitted to speak to her, or her mother; both of them wear elegant chains around their necks now. Ones forged from cold iron, that properly mutes their magic.

Chrom isn't allowed to spend much time with them, either. It feels like his father is prying a part of him away, and locking it up. It pushes a cold feeling through Chrom… As well as a feeling of defiance. It's what gets him up early in the morning, sneaking across the camp to see Robin whenever he can. He tries to sneak her portions of his meals… Though each time he sees her, he can't manage words, and she can't seem to meet his eyes.

' _I'm sorry.'_ He wants to tell her, but never gets the chance or the courage.

His father won't be swayed with letting them loose… Until the day finally comes, that they reach the border with Plegia.

Mountains frame them at their backs and sides. Desert stretches out before them, dunes like waves in the sea. The heat is enough to stop Chrom in his tracks… But what truly stops their march short is the mass of black, coating sections of the dunes.

With a sinking feeling, he also realizes that they've massed on the desert plain, standing between them and the Ylissean fortress.

"…Plegia massed a patrol for us." His father growls, glaring at the forces, crawling like locusts over the desert.

"Small wonder." Says Robin's mother, scowling at Duran. "You opted for a larger force, and one that moves slower in a mass; easy enough for advanced scouts and spies to pick out, and inform their masters."

Duran scowls at that, his eyes resting on the woman's neck.

"Too bad for them, there's a counter to this." He turns to Robin. The girl tries to shrink from him, but he brings his horse up, too fast for her to dodge. His hands snap around the iron collar on her throat, before forcing the lock open.

Robin collapses to the ground, like she's gasping for breath, after having her throat roughly handled and then freed. Duran motions for the same to happen to her mother.

A part of Chrom wants to cry out… But there's a brutal light to his father's eyes. A strange look that stills Chrom. And any words he might try to say are cut short, as his father draws a sword.

Falchion gleams painfully bright in the desert sun, almost blinding Chrom with how it flashes. With a quick cut, Duran levels the blade on the woman's throat.

"Now. Work your spells; show me why these heretics wanted your daughter." Duran's voice is oppressive, leaving no room to argue… And yet still, Morgana stares at him in defiance. Chrom only wishes he was made of the same stern stuff; he can hear a war chant and call building up along the desert, growing and swelling as the Plegians move closer.

And while they charge, there seems to be something else growing in the air. Almost a snarl, a silent command that drones on the edge of Chrom's hearing like a thousand malignant wasps.

"Chrom, you're coming with me. And I'll show you how to deal with heretics." Duran doesn't flinch from the cries. He curtly pulls the blade from Morgana's throat, wheeling his horse about. There's a bloodthirsty gleam to his gaze, as he looks back to the Plegian army.

"If they don't begin casting… Don't hesitate to make an example of them." Duran says to his officers. He doesn't leave them room to argue, and directs Chrom to mount up on his own horse. Chrom shakes as he climbs up; a part of him wants to refuse, to say they're all hopelessly outmatched… But Duran leaves him no room to argue.

It turns into a mad charge down the dunes, unflinching even as the Plegian mages unleash their spells. Fires lash from the sky, or explode from underneath the cavalry's hooves. Hearing the screams of the horses, feeling his skin blister from the Plegian flames, Chrom understands why Duran wanted his own war mages-

And in another moment, the skies boil overhead, as a different sound screams in his ears. Morgana and Robin must be working on their casting; he's all the more certain of that when lightning slams along the Plegian flanks, sowing sudden chaos and breaking up their spell casting.

It gives his father just enough time to lead his horse on a mad lunge into the ranks, laying about with Falchion. Chrom desperately tries to keep up and lash out with his own sword. It's a far cry from the training grounds; practice figures don't bleed or scream. They don't lash back at him, trying to open him from throat to stomach, or score cuts along his side. In all the chaos, Chrom has to fall back on reflexes. Strike, charge, doing his best to evade the enemy strikes-

Until a vicious spell makes the world turn to fire and black miasma around him. It knocks him from his horse, and sends him tumbling into the sand. His skin burns and bruises in equal measure, and Chrom can only skid along the ground. He comes to a stop, staring into the sky, catching his father still laying into the Plegians, even as he's overrun. Duran slashes with Falchion, the blade burning against the miasma, shedding gouts of blood as it swings-

Until another spell knocks the blade from his hand, and takes most of the flesh from Duran's arm with it. The blade arcs through the air, almost slicing Chrom's cheek as it sinks point first into the sand.

"Father-?" He can only whisper, before the Plegians swarm over Duran. His father can't even scream, and Chrom can't hear him over the clash of weapons.

"CHROM!" But he can hear someone screaming his name. Even as the Plegians turn to wash over him-

The sky turns an even darker color, and lightning slams down, engulfing the Plegians in ash. His vision is blinded by the flash, and Chrom can only focus on drawing his breath, and wondering where the voice and the spells came from.

He gets his answer, when a hand claps down on his shoulders. He can just make out a figure on a horse, pulling him back up even as his skin screams. His hands reach for Falchion, plucking it up from the sand; the sword feels oddly heavy and clumsy in his grasp.

"Oh thank the gods… You're still alive." He hears Robin's voice whisper in his ears. She wheels the horse around, racing back to the border, even as the skirmish breaks down into chaos all around them.

"You… Saved me?" Even after the threats and harsh words from his father? He knows the disbelief is thick in his voice. Robin says nothing, just keeps them racing for the border.

-o-o-o-

It's pure luck that they escape. Luck… And a demonstration of Morgana's magic. She'd blackened the skies, held off the pass alone as everyone else retreated through the canyon. And now… Now Chrom has no idea if she survived, or if his own father made it out.

He can only slump against Robin, as they ride back through Ylisse in silence. Even their own forces have scattered, some fleeing to the fortress. Others melting back into the countryside. It leaves them with an empty meadow to ride through, after they escape the grip of the mountains.

"Chrom… You're still alive, right?" Robin asks him, as the sun sets on the hills. He can't help but notice that the grass looks almost like blood, in the fading daylight. How many died in that skirmish alone?

' _Enough that Plegia couldn't give chase to you… Gods, what was father thinking-?'_ Likely nothing he'd tell a simple weapon, like himself or Robin. Chrom grips at Falchion, almost ready to throw the blade aside.

"Chrom?" Robin presses.

"Y-yeah…" He mutters. He forces his fingers to slowly loosen on Falchion, so he can rest the blade in a makeshift scabbard. Robin gives the weapon a worried look.

"…So, what are your orders? Do we go back, and fight more Plegians?" There's a tension in her voice. "W-with your father missing, and your sister back in the capital, you're the next in command-"

"And I'm NOT my father." Chrom has already decided that much. "I… I don't know what got into him, but I don't want to be like that."

Not a murderer, or someone who only saw people as tools. Robin slows the horse, looking back at him. He takes one of his hands away from Falchion, resting a hand on her shoulders.

"Robin… I'm sorry." He wheezes out. "I… Do you want to go back to Plegia, after all that?"

Robin lifts her hand up, and clasps at his.

"No… Because… Like you said, you aren't your father. And besides, all my friends are in Ylisse anyway." Chrom can't keep a half hysterical laugh from bubbling out of him, a desperate blast of emotion finally shocking through his system. He wraps his arm around Robin, pulling her against him in an odd half hug. Robin doesn't resist it either, giving an odd and relieved sigh from the gesture.

He's lost a great deal… But at least he still has his best friend. And feels an odd twinge of something more, something he doesn't quite yet have a name for, as he hangs onto her. But he'll have time to figure it out later, as long as they're still together.


	8. Superheroes/Superpowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA, the surprise InFAMOUS Second Son fusion AU. Contains similar themes to the game and some X-men parallels, such as bigotry, systematic prejudice, martial law, and making things explode. With that said, thank you for reading!

His blood and body all burn.

Chrom crouches in the shadow of stone arches, wincing at each blast of gunfire pinging off the bricks, and wishing he'd never left the office. He also tries to steady his breathing, and wishes he were anywhere else. And that all he has to worry about are just plain goosebumps rushing over his skin, instead of a surge of weird sparks.

The old cathedral stone stands the test of time, earthquakes, and even gunfire… But Chrom is pretty sure there's only so much punishment it can take. Especially if the Department of Unified Protection decides to switch out their guns, and send in their powered members. He's NEVER had to face one of those super powered soldiers before; he's always obeyed the law, worked within its confines to pass new laws, and never manifested anything that could be labeled as bio-terrorist potential.

Until now.

' _Please… Please let this just...'_ He stares at his hand, trying to will the light tendrils running along his fingers to just… STOP. But no matter how much he tries to pray, and regardless of the location, the gods aren't interested in listening to him.

And he's yet to miraculously vanish off the Department's trackers or searchers. He has to be keyed into their sensors, going by the raised voices outside. They alternately shout for him to surrender himself, and for their own forces to flush him out. And they don't have any interest in leaving him alone; that much is clear when the new hail of bullets slam into the doors… And shatter a few of the windows. Shards of rainbow colored glass scatter down on him, ruining the patterns overhead. Through the broken windows, he can pick out gray, rainy skies, and the skyline of the city. It makes him wish he could vanish among the buildings-

But when a pair of eyes pop up in front of him, Chrom settles for scrambling backwards and trying to cram himself under one of the church benches.

"So you're still alive? Good." The stranger says, watching him… And also ducking down low when another hail of gun fire snaps across the cathedral. Her trench coat flares out behind her in a violet fan, and her pale hair trails after her. There's even a faint crackle of energy coating her as well… Energy that has to belong to a conduit. One of those high powered freaks. Watching her and taking in her odd appearance, Chrom thinks about how he should've known she was bad news from the start. "I was worried those Dupes got you…"

She trails off under Chrom's glare. He's not in the mood for her company, after everything that happened.

"What the hell did you do to me!?" He half wants to grab her by the wrist, and latch on until he gets answers… But Chrom also hesitates in bridging the grasp. Because hanging onto her the LAST time was what led him into this mess, and left him with light and energy crackling beneath his fingertips.

"I'm pretty sure that's MY question." The conduit shoots back, matching him glare for glare. She props herself up on her elbows, holding up her hand. A flicker of dark violet energy dances along her fingers, almost in a contrast to his new power.

"When you grabbed onto me, I… Something HAPPENED to me." She tells him, and Chrom can easily remember the event; how he'd seen the stranger collapse, as power surged through the entire city and tried to blow out every light on the street. And to make things worse, there'd been other conduits nearby, tearing up the city blocks and sowing more chaos. There'd been screams from those creatures, near war cries about the glory of conduits. And they didn't even flinch or break from their rampage when the D.U.P. showed up to contain them. By reflex, he'd gone to the stranger to try and help her up… And gotten a zap of power for his troubles, when they made contact. And that same surge seems to be stuck in his skin now.

It also seems to have done something to the stranger, with how she frowns at him.

"I'm supposed to be calling and controlling electricity. Not whatever THIS stuff is, on top of everything else!" The conduit continues, ending in a frustrated huff.

"And I'm not supposed to be a bio-terrorist at all!" Chrom counters.

"Don't tell me you buy into that propaganda." The stranger groans… Only to trail off, as shouts echo from the cathedral entrance. The glass shards vibrate on across the floor, filling the air with an odd chiming noise. And there's something else soaking into the cathedral space, something that sets Chrom's teeth on edge and makes motes of light dance in his vision. The conduit must feel it as well, with how she winces. "…On second thought, we can save the debate for later. We need to go."

He still bristles at the order behind her words, and digs his feet into the floor, balling his fists. The conduit can only roll her eyes.

"Look. The dupes out there have worse than bullets. You know that, right?" He has to nod; they have their own conduits on the force, even if those are artificially created. "Well, if we don't get going, you're going to see what they do first hand-"

Their only warning is a strange, scrapping sound, like dozens of plates of concrete are rumbling and digging against each other, building up pressure. The next breath, an explosion of impact rocks the side of the building, blowing the doors off their hingers. The ceremonial, metal engraved carved doors crash through benches and dig furrows into the stone tile… And also sends debris crashing down on Chrom. The bench he's under buckles, then breaks from the strain. It feels like the weight of the entire cathedral slams down on him, threatening to snap his back… And yet he doesn't break. There's a strange bolt of strength that crackles along his back, with a similarly strange collection of light motes that dance along Chrom's vision.

They banish any hint of pain. And leave him bristling with a sense of strength; enough to easily hold the shattered stone up, and keeps it from crushing him… Even if he can't fully shrug the wreckage off his back.

"Looks like you've got some healing, along with the usual powers. Good thing for you, too." The conduit tells him. She reaches out, violet light already crackling along her arm. Chrom winces, braces, sure she's about to scour his face off… Instead, she sends the bolts of energy blasting through the rubble, releasing the pressure on his back.

"So I can still control this, like I did with my lightning. Good." She says, before reaching down and grabbing Chrom by the arm. Right where all the sleeve fabric has been torn away, leaving them with bare skin to touch. She doesn't give him a chance to protest, and doesn't even flinch from the sparks; it's just like the last time they made contact, like there's something in them that's reacting to the other.

She tightens her hand around his wrist, and yanks him out under the debris with a skid and a scrape… And in the process, something more seems to jump between them. Flashes of memories and images that all try to take root and blossom in his head. It's something that he's gotten flashes of once before, when they first touched. He's tried to put those images out of his head… Just like he's tried to suppress the powers buzzing across his skin.

And just like the powers sparking through him, he doesn't have a lot of choice. No matter how he scrunches his face up, or tries to curl away, he can't escape those visions.

' _I'm not a fighter.'_ The stranger's voice echoes in his head. _'At least that's what I tell myself. Even though…'_ He sees flickers of a strange, dark lit place where the lights are little more than sparking, flickering bulbs, and the halls made of old windowless concrete. The stranger looks oddly small against all that… And even more so, when a shadowy figure looms over her. _'Even though that's what they tell me. The Grimleal… And my father.'_ There's fragments of faces swirling through his vision now; some of them even look like the conduits that had raged through the city. _'They say we're a different breed. That we're BETTER than normal people… And even though they force me to learn how to fight, they can't make me believe that.'_ The last sight is the stranger, breaking from the conduits and dark figure. Trying to run… And falling in the process-

And that was where he'd found her.

The vision fades out as Chrom gives a broken wheeze, and finds himself staring up at skyscrapers instead of cathedral ceiling. The stranger crouches over him, half shielding him from the light patter of rain, and making sure they weren't spotted or followed during their escape. Strands of her long silvery hair trail over her shoulders, and tickle at his face.

He's still a little shocked she didn't just leave him there, and make her own escape.

"Robin…?" He whispers-

And his eyes go wide when he realizes that he knows her name now.

"Yeah, Chrom-?" She realizes the same thing, with how she stares down at him. "Well… That's new. Is that another aspect of your conduit power, being able to read people's thoughts?"

"S-stop calling me a conduit!" Chrom manages, pulling himself upright and forcing Robin out of his face. "I'm not one of those things…!" He catches himself a moment too late. And tough and resourceful as Robin seems to be, she still winces from his words. "I mean… I'm not one of you… Gods, that sounds even worse."

"Well, would you prefer the term 'bio-terrorist?'" Robin asks, a hurt, tight note settling in her throat. She looks past Chrom, to the old cathedral and the smoke now drifting off it. At the foot of the ancient building, lurk men in uniforms and something that looks closer to SWAT gear than any standard uniform… And they bristle with shards of rock bleeding off their bodies. Chrom has the sinking feeling that all those spears of rocks are meant to find their way into HIM.

"Starting to figure out that the dupes aren't your friend? Unless of course, you'd still prefer their company." Robin says… And gingerly takes him by the clothed shoulders this time, trying to pull him into the nearest alley and out of sight. Chrom winces a little as she tugs at him and puts a few more strains on the seams of his jacket; his suit is going to be a lost cause by the end of this.

"They're called the D.U.P." Chrom feels a need to say, a bit peevisly.

"And you can't spell 'dupe' without them. And they do a good enough job of duping people, when it comes to the public perception. They love repeating 'dangerous bio-terrorist' until that's all anyone believes… And I'd say I've got pretty good proof of that." Robin tells him. Chrom just leans against her with a groan.

"Gods, this is like talking to a super powered version of my sist-" The complaint cuts out, as the rest of his memories catch up to him. That he'd been out walking the city not just for errands, but because his sister had dragged him along and saying they needed to get out of the office. She'd been in the middle of the chaos, once the power surges started happening.

And he doesn't know what's happened to her. His last clear memory of her is seeing her fight through the chaos, catching the glow wrapped around his arms. He half expected she'd turn and run from him at that. Instead she threw herself against one of the D.U.P. agents and screamed at him to run away.

"L-Lissa!" Chrom blurts out, jolting upright and staring beyond the cathedral. There's an open space beyond that; the remnants of a park, where he's had lunches with his siblings. It doesn't look like much of a place to relax now. There's clunky vehicles parked and half driven up onto the sidewalk, looking more like they belong in a warzone than in a city neighborhood. There's even one of those odd, mobile bases parked half against the fountain, buzzing with power-

"LEMME GO!" But over the hum of D.U.P. equipment, there's a voice. One he recognizes, and the outrage in it is familiar enough. But this time it's directed at the soldiers, instead of him. Chrom fights his way to his feet, squirming out from Robin's grip. And even as she yelps and cries out for him to wait, he goes charging. Right back towards the D.U.P. and into the firing line.

But he can't very well leave his sister in their hands. He bolts to the town square, weaving between the oversized trucks and broken up sidewalks. He crunches across street and broken window glass, splashes through rain puddles, and all of it draws the eyes of the D.U.P. The closer he gets, he can see his sister roughly subdued by a group of them, her yellow sundress smeared with dirt and ash, and two soldiers flanking either side of her.

"And there's our threat." One of them says, roughly shoving Lissa to the floor and rushing Chrom with a crunch of stone. A weapon forms in the man's hand, gray stone polished to a razor's sharpness at the edges.

Chrom brings his hand up on reflex, though he doesn't know how he's going to stop an axe of rough hewn stone… But he gets an answer for that fast enough. There's a crackling along his fingers, just like he's seen Robin use… But instead of dark shots of energy, a brilliant blade of light settles in his fingers. It dazzles his eyes, and does far worse to the axe; even rock can't seem to hold up to the blade as it melts the stone, and he slices through the weapon and the stone armor coating the man. The soldier staggers away, bleeding and cursing Chrom-

The soldier has gone weak. And the blade almost crackles in his hands, ready to sink into flesh and fully dismember the man, if Chrom so wishes it… But he flinches away from that notion.

By instinct, Chrom plunges the blade down, twisting hard on his wrist and stabbing the man's shadow. The shadow disperses from the ground, turning to strands of light that tangle the man's limbs, and leave him crashing to the ground, tangled and immobile. Chrom can only stare at his handiwork; for an instant, he'd been capable of taking the man's life. But he's chosen to subdue.

…And yet for his part, Chrom feels a little sick to his stomach, on what he just did. Normal people don't sprout light from their hands, and turn it into a blazing weapon.

' _Gods. You really ARE one of them now-!'_

He tries to will the blade away. Instead, his reflexes kick in when he sees another figure closing in on him. Chrom tears himself around, needing to block another strike. The D.U.P. soldier looks ready to take his head off, and there's no compassion in the man's eyes. Nothing that shows he sees Chrom as a human.

' _Maybe because you're not human anymore.'_ Chrom thinks, as he stumbles back. One of the soldiers still clings onto Lissa, with such a grip that he looks ready to pop her shoulders out. Lissa gives a pained noise, and he's certain she'll get something broken, before he can break through the soldiers and reach her.

But he's not the only one struggling towards Lissa.

Robin is little more than a shade; he sees a tangle of black strands skating from shadow to shadow, before she materializes right behind the D.U.P. officer. And when she appears, there's a look of red rage in her eyes, like she's ready to tear the man's head off at the shoulders… But then she lifts her eyes, and looks at Chrom for an instant.

Shadows coat her hands, looking like cruel talons for an instant. But instead of plunging them into the man's back, she locks them around his throat instead; and another collection of tendrils, these ones composed of shadow, wrap around the man, pulling him down. She blazes across the fight, crippling another soldier in the process with a quick slash from her hands, and finally pushes down one more and leaves him tangled in shadowy strands.

Chrom sees all this, as he wards off his own soldier; the man bristles with shards of rock, and Chrom grimaces against the strength of his blows. He's heard rumors about this; how the D.U.P. artificially imbues their own soldiers with powers from one of their tame conduits. Even if the man isn't a natural conduit, he has more than enough strength pushed into his muscles.

"Give. UP." The man snarls. "Maybe the chief'll go easy on you… Or maybe she'll decide you and your friends need some concrete in their bones."

"…Okay, that's enough 'protecting the people' out of you." Robin says, materializing behind the man. He barely has time to flinch, before she hooks those shadowy claws into him, and throws him across the park; the stone armor on him means he punches clean through the mobile base, leaving it spitting sparks… And sounding like there's about to be an imminent explosion.

"Leaving now!" Robin shouts to him, dashing over to where Lissa lays crumbled on the ground.

Robin yanks her up. There's a faint violet glow coming off her, and clinging onto Lissa. Chrom wants to yell at her to stop… But then he realizes the energy is strengthening his sister, helping her stand upright.

"Better get going." Robin clings onto Lissa, bolting to the far side of the park and trailing shadowy smoke in her footsteps. Chrom follows her, feeling a similar lightness in his footsteps. The mobile base gives a shrill noise behind them… Before a sharp explosion rocks the entire park, and leaves them both crashing to the ground. Chrom skids along the rain slicked streets, feeling tepid water soak him, and flames from the explosion nip at his back. But through it all, Lissa stays shielded and stares at them both, never loosing that awed expression.

"...Y-you're-?"

"…A Bio-terrorist?" Robin grits the term out, from where she's sprawled along the ground.

"Hell no!" Lissa tells her, sounding the world like one of their friends, Sully. Chrom wants to scold her for language, but she's already talking over him. "You're like a super hero or something. A-and…"

The reality of the situation catches up to her.

"…A-apparently. So is my brother. W-wow." Chrom can only shake his head as he stands, and pulls the two women up in turn. He glances around, trying to figure out where to run. The square sits on a hill, the roads plunging down; below them waits the rest of the city, and hopefully a place to lose themselves in.

' _Especially now that Robin gouged out their eyes. That mobile base is going to take time to repair or replace.'_

"We should focus on getting away. Figure out what to do next." Chrom tells them. "Are you… Would you come with us, Robin?" Strange, how the name rolls so easily off his tongue. Even Robin stills for a moment… And likely notices the way the wariness has all evaporated off his tongue. But she's still uncertain, with how she frowns at him.

"You sure you want a bio terror-"

He steps in closer, holding a hand up to still Robin. He half reaches out to take Lissa… But his hand also lingers for a moment longer on her shoulder.

"I'm… Not so keen on that term anymore." Not after seeing Robin swoop in to save his sister. She shoots him a surprised look at that.

"…And okay." Chrom groans out. "Okay. So maybe I don't buy into that propaganda after all. Sorry it took me a while to admit that."

"A-apology accepted." Robin tells him, still looking a bit stunned. And it makes him wonder, how rare it is for her to be given fair treatment. It makes shame curl in his gut, and he has to keep his fingers from balling into a fist and pinching at Robin's shoulder.

Instead, he turns them from the ruined square, to the hills and winding streets. They both ease into a jog, and Chrom keeps the pace up even while throwing his sister over his shoulder.

"I-I can walk you know!" She protests.

"Yeah, just not as fast as us! And I remember you during the marathons; you're kinda lousy at running. Or jogging." Chrom shoots back. Lissa just grumbles in response. "And we need to put some distance between us and the soldiers. And the smoking ruins. They're going to figure out we aren't in the cathedral fast enough."

Lissa tries to protest, only to find herself jostled. Chrom looks back to Robin, to see if she's keeping the pace. She's doing better than that, and it almost looks like she's holding herself back, to keep from surging ahead. And Chrom can't help but start running a little faster as well; he knows he's leaving strands of light in his wake, but they're almost like a tailwind with pushing him forward… And turning their fleeing into something that's almost a race. Robin even gives a startled grin at that… But it's also something Lissa doesn't entirely appreciate.

"Okay, okay! Look, cool as the sparkly new powers are, I don't exactly have the constitution for this. Not like you two." She groans. Robin takes note of that, slowing a little as they take another sharp turn. Chrom considers it amazing that she hasn't just cut and run from them entirely.

"What I'm surprised about," he manages, as they duck into a new alleyway, firmly breaking any line of sight with the D.U.P. forces. "Is how you put up with me, initially."

"What do you mean, 'put up with you?'" Lissa manages to ask. "Chrom… Please don't tell me you were being a royal pain towards the super-hero lady."

"Only a minor pain." Robin corrects her. "And the fact is… He stopped long enough to try and help me, the first time. Considering there were other conduits throwing powers around and blowing things up… That's pretty impressive. And… Uncommon, with a lot of people."

"Conduits don't get a lot of help-?" He finds himself asking, as they come to a stop in the alleyway. A steel fire escape is above them, and Robin easily makes the jump. She turns around, holding her hand out to take Lissa.

"Not… Usually. Which made me hope that maybe you'd come around, even if you found out I wasn't… Normal, you know? Plus, I stuck around because I needed to return the favor. Help you out a little as well." Chrom can only nod, as he boosts Lissa up and onto the fire escape.

Together they clamber up the ladders and stairs, until they finally reach the roofs. And in the process, Chrom gets a little time to breathe. No one has followed them up, or even seems to know where they are. The stormy weather has cleared up a little, showing pockets of clear blue sky overhead… And up here on the roofs, they have an entire cityscape stretched out before them.

Looking across, there's an oddly giddy feeling rushing through him, knowing that he can easily run these roofs, and make the jumps now.

"Wellllllll." Lissa drawls, giving him a grin. "I haven't seen THAT look on your face in a while. You're like a kid in the candy store. Looks like you've got a little excitement back in your life."

He'd like to protest that; to say that this day has been nothing but bad luck and worse changes… But he finds that he can't bring himself to do that. Because in a way, it would feel like a lie. Chrom shoots another glance to Robin, remembering how exhilarating that run through the streets had been.

"…Well. It may not be normal." He finds himself saying, glancing over to Robin and Lissa. "But… I'll learn to live with it. Provided I have someone I can ask for help. I need someone to show me the ropes."

"That'd be a decent way for me to return the favor." Robin eagerly latches onto it. "And… I could use someone else watching my back. Or maybe several some ones."

Lissa brightens up at that.

"Once we put in the call and let Emmeryn know everything, you should DEFINITELY get ready to make a lot of friends. Chrom here was… Well. Sorta the exception to our group, with being weirded out by super powers. Guess that's no longer the case, though." Lissa tells her. Robin seems to be fighting down a smile when she hears that.

For his part, Chrom reaches out, offering her his hand again… And not flinching at all when she takes it, shaking hands to seal the agreement. A set of sparks dancing between them, a quick manifestation of their powers. And this time, Chrom doesn't find himself freaking out at the sight.

Maybe because the sight of Robin is starting to feel familiar, as are the powers.

"Well, Robin… Good to meet you. Here's to hoping this is the start of a good partnership."

She nods to that… And he can't help but feel another warm surge along his arm, from where their hands brush together. Something that he feels is unrelated to their powers, but he certainly doesn't mind it.


	9. Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut, weird courtly love, and vague fairy tale parallels.

Chrom's first kiss is hesitant, like he's afraid she'll run from him, in the same way the night flees from the day. Robin is eager enough to assuage his fears, pressing her mouth against his and savoring the warmth of his lips.

He murmurs something against her mouth; it could be her name, or perhaps soft words of appreciation. Robin can't quite make out the details, but the gentleness in his voice is clear enough. And if she has any worries about how fast they're taking this, then his murmurings snuff them out. And all she can do is card her fingers through his hair, to coax more words out of him.

And wonder if it's just her imagination, that his eyes almost burn with pleasure, as bright as the dawn.

-o-o-o-

The first time she met the Day Prince, Robin strongly considered challenging him to a duel. They encounter each other on the equinox floor, on opposite sides of the room. Even when the two courts came together, there wasn't much mingling between the two, beyond words and gestures exchanged by dignitaries.

The two opposites seldom mingled with the other. A combination of magic and old primal law, that dated back to the most ancient and half-forgotten of their kind. And over time, tradition and rules turned to isolation… And wariness.

The best gesture the Day Prince could give was glaring at her, before nervously backing up. It was like he'd caught himself, and felt a bit of shame for it; Robin felt worse shame, with how he refused to look at her for the rest of court. Like she was somehow sullied by such a response.

Something about that twisted up in her. Though she didn't dare bring up such matters to her mother… Or the fading shade that was her father. Just as well; he was waning like the moon. And by the time they turned to a new cycle, he'd be no more. Robin didn't know how she felt about such a thing, considering the brutal reign of her father.

But she DID know that she wasn't looking forward to the next meeting of the courts, if she was going to get more of the same treatment.

-o-o-o-

Her skin feels so delicate under his hands, and Chrom tries to keep his touches gentle. One hand combs through her hair, settling on the back of her neck to support her head. The other runs along her shoulders; as he gently brushes at skin, he tries to put something more into his touch.

Robin leans into his touch, murmuring appreciation.

"I've never been so glad to be wrong about someone." She manages, and Chrom finds himself chuckling as well.

"Likewise." He tells her, stroking her hair and marveling at the silky quality to it… And how the face underneath it almost seems to glow, when she smiles. Under his attention, there's a light gently shimmering off her skin, like moonlight off the water.

-o-o-o-

The second time he met the Night Maiden, she challenged him at sword point. It wasn't his proudest moment; he'd told himself that for this meeting he'd either ignore her, or try not to emulate his own father so much. Emmeryn had several sharp words to give him, after that first encounter; how treating the Night Court wouldn't do their side any favors, breed more animosity… It was something he was trying to remember. With the weakening of the two court rulers, they should have been entering into a new age. One with less blood and loss, and with more peace at the gatherings.

But he could still see the marks of King Validar on the Night Maiden. There weren't many in the courts with hair like the moonlight, or a faint crackle of purple in the edges of their eyes. There were times he swore he caught a hint of horns or slit draconic pupils, and even a slight glimmer of scales lurking in the corner of her face.

All of it made his face twist up… And apparently, she took notice of it.

She'd strode across the floor faster than he could blink, her dress shoes clicking across the star and sun mosaics, before she drew the blade at her side in a flash and leveled it on his throat.

"You have plenty of disdain for us, Prince." She somehow turned the title into an insult. "I don't know how you handle such matters in the light of the sun… But under the gaze of the moon, we make our grievances plain, and act quickly on them. If you have such a grudge, then we'll resolve it, NOW."

-o-o-o-

He's slowly getting bolder with his touches, encouraged by the gasps and sighs she makes. Robin smiles at him, as his hands come to a rest at the hem of her dress. The silver and black silks ripple under his fingers… Though when he touches the bindings, Chrom hesitates, giving her a worried look.

"Please," She tells him trying to urge him on. Because right now, her clothing is almost constricting, suffocating her, and forms an intolerable barrier between herself and Chrom. She anxiously wiggles her shoulders, starting to ease down the fabric. "I would… I'd like this, Chrom. Unless you have a second thoughts-?"

In answer, he leans forward, touching their cheeks together; she can feel the heat burning across his face, and his breath shudders in and out. His fingers slip back along the edges of her dress, gently tugging it down, exposing her shoulders.

In the same moment, Robin goes to the buttons on his own clothing, trying to figure them out. And with a chuckle, he breaks away to help her out. Robin pauses as his coat comes undone, showing the warm skin underneath.

The two of them move slowly from there, taking their time to explore the other's body, feeling out the planes of their shoulders, as they slowly pull down the clothing to show more skin.

-o-o-o-

She'd been forced to give the Dawn Prince one credit; he handled himself well in a fight. After the shock of the challenge wore off, he'd drawn his own sword, and the circle of the ballroom turned into a dueling ground. Robin couldn't bring herself to care; there'd been duels and worse fought here before, courtesy of her father… Even if a part of her hated that she was continuing his legacy in such a way.

Their fight was perhaps the first dance this place had seen in moons; both figures moving in time to the clash of sword strikes, ebbing and surging back and forth-

Until, impossibly, they both pressed their attack at the same time. Both swords clattered to the floor, bloody from scoring marks on the other.

The shouts of their family put a stop to anything more, and sent them off to nurse their cuts with their ears burning. Robin had found her own place out in the garden, trying to bandage an awkward gash running from arm to elbow; the harsh light of the sun made it hard to see, as the alignment of the shared court had swayed towards day.

The shadow falling across her eyes was almost a relief, until she realized it belonged to a certain Prince. She tensed, wondering if he'd found her to continue the duel and grudge… But there wasn't any challenge or anger in his face.

"I… I'm sorry." His voice came out impossibly small, considering how he towered over her. "That I caused such insult. And let my own… Impressions of the Night Court color my judgement. And further wounded you."

"It will heal, with the moon's turning." And perhaps until then, she could take that as a lesson not to be so rash with her challenges or judgements.

"Good. I… Wouldn't want a talented swordswoman to be crippled, because I was being a dolt with my manners." He continued, bowing his head. And then, he knelt to the ground, carefully reaching out to her. She half expected him to realize what he was doing, and recoil from her like she was something disgusting. "But… Until then, could I offer some help?"

He held bandages and salve in his hands. And at her nod, he began dressing the cut. As he bandaged her arm and cradled her hand, Robin offered to do the same for him. And realized she needed to give the Dawn Prince perhaps a few more credits.

-o-o-o-

Chrom pulls the last of the dress sleeves off of Robin's arms. He sees a glint of scar tissue traveling along the length of her arm, right where his sword glanced along her flesh. It freezes him for an instant, and the attraction and lust fades out, replaced by guilt.

"Fair's fair." Robin tells him. "If I remember, I marked you as well."

She takes him by the wrist, raising his own arm up and showing the glinting bit of paler flesh running over his skin. Chrom glances at it as well, seeing the faint shimmers of blue scales; a reminder of the dawn sky, and the sun warmed dragons who fly through it. They're the same creatures that give his court so much power, and he knows Robin's court has her own creatures. Ones that fly through a black and violet sky, just like the hints of scales on her own skin.

He trails his fingers over the violet scales, and feels Robin shiver in response.

"I guess these don't disgust you anymore?" She asks, eyes lowered as though she's still afraid of what his answer might be.

"I was a fool to think like that, in the first place." He tells her. "Besides… We're two sides of the same coin. That much is clear to me, now." He raises his own arm, turning it so the blue scales catch the candle light. Then, he wraps his arms around her, carefully pulling her in close to prove the words.

-o-o-o-

On their third meeting, she offered the Dawn Prince her name.

This time there was no clash of blades. And this time, he sought her out from the crowd, inquiring about her arm. The concern in his face was different, compared to the last time he'd seen her; she saw that he faltered a little, before closing the distance, but that was the limit of his apprehension.

And when she assured him all was well, that seemed to be tinder for a conversation. How they'd drifted away from the rest of the night court was a murky thing for her; they were caught up in the other's words, talking about how they'd learned to fight. Him from his father, and she from her mother. There was slight unease, when he talked about training under his own father; Robin had heard stories of the Dawn King, how his light tried to burn the kingdoms of any who dwelled under the moon.

"I… Need to unlearn some of my father's other lessons, however." He'd said, almost reading her thoughts. "My father hasn't been the gentlest or wisest of our rulers. I think everyone is waiting for my own sister to step up, and be a better guiding light."

And that prompted honesty from her as well; that her own father had been ruthless, ready to embrace the darker aspects of their court and let night-terrors reign over moonlit wonders and secrets.

They had more in common than she first thought… And there's a shock when he looks her in the eyes, and she sees a flicker of something draconic in his own eyes. Maybe that's why he always hesitated to meet anyone eye to eye.

And that was what drove her to offer him a name. She just never expected him to return the favor, by giving his own.

-o-o-o-

Robin nestles herself in Chrom's arms, whispering his name again and again. She thinks that in answer, she can hear and feel his heart beat a little faster. She angles her head up to kiss him along the neck and jaw.

"Robin…" He only says her name once in response… But there's such a tenderness in his voice that it threatens to bring tears to her eyes. But Chrom has an answer to that as well, dipping his lips to her cheeks, touching them to her eyelids when she closes them.

Behind closed eyes, she can feel every brush from his fingers; cautiously tracing up and down her sides, trying to coax more sounds from her. She indulges him, giving a long sigh that turns into a soft plea.

"Please, Chrom. I want…" More; in a way, it's unnerving how insatiable she feels. But he seems to feel the same, as he hikes up her skirt, tracing the lines of her legs in the process. Robin hisses in approval. "Yes, love-"

The title slips out of her before she can take it back. Chrom freezes for a moment at it… And then echoes the word, before he kisses the base of her throat.

"Love," he murmurs again.

-o-o-o-

The fourth meeting is when she sought him out. Chrom's heart had almost pattered out of his chest at that, oddly thrilled that Robin wanted to spend time with him. He'd been looking forward to another meeting between the courts for that same reason, hoping he'd be able to find her.

They spent all their time strolling through the gardens, this time illuminated by starlight. Robin told him about the constellations, how each one honored a past hero of the night court, and how she hoped that perhaps someday, she would warrant a place up there; that was why she studied so devoutly under her mother… And tried to undo the influence of her father.

That led to a discussion about their fathers; how the kings had made war on the other's court, before finally falling to the other's blade. How both of the wounds, while not lethal, had slowly sapped the strength from each, as they'd never been allowed to heal.

It made him reach out to her, and gently run his fingers along her arm, to make sure her own wound would close. Because the idea of the same thing happening to her left him cold. And Robin seemed to think the same, with how she mimicked the gesture on his arm.

"It was hate, I think." Robin tells him, describing her father; he'd been steadily fading away, much like Chrom's father. "They could never purge that from their hearts, and it's been like poison in their wounds."

"W-well… I can say for certain I don't hate you." He rushed to tell her. And was rewarded with a soft laugh.

-o-o-o-

It turns out Robin is a little ticklish; not something he'd expect from a lady of the court. But she still giggles when he brushes a line along her ribs, settling his hands on her sides.

He eases her down, into the sheets, and splays his hand out over her chest; feeling her heart beat, and reminding himself that this is somehow real. That she's with him, alive and returning each of his kisses and touches.

There isn't much formality between them now… Or clothing for that matter. Her dress is bunched and folded around her waist, while her fingers have managed to peel his shirt off him, leaving his hair tousled. He runs his fingers through it, trying to straighten it out… And in response, she ruffles it again.

"I… I like seeing you like this." She murmurs, looking at him through half lidded eyes. "Without all your finery, needing to be perfectly presented to a court with thousands of eyes. It…"

She drops her gaze, looking self-conscious for a moment; likely wondering if, even though they've made a mess of each other, she's still overstepped somehow. And in answer, Chrom runs his fingers through her hair, ruffling it into a bed head and partially undoing the braids.

"You know… It's not a bad appearance for you, either, love." He grins down at Robin, and a laugh startles its way out of her.

-o-o-o-

The fifth meeting led to more shared words and company… And then to a dance. This time they weren't interrupted by worried family members, though Robin caught flashes of her own mother watching them. There'd been an odd, knowing smile on her mother's face, and a sparkle in her eyes that Robin hadn't seen in years. She also caught the sight of two sunny haired women, people she was sure were siblings to Chrom.

The older of those siblings had been trying to encourage more music, to ease moods and any lingering tensions. It had been a running theme for several of their meetings. And tonight, her bidding was finally carried out, as gentle strings are conjured, and drift through the in turn, that made Robin bold. She'd asked Chrom if he knew how to dance… And in answer, he took her hand, and led her to the open floor.

She was still certain they were among the first from two opposing courts, to dance like this across the ballroom floor. This time they move together; instead of a challenge, it's a cautious partnership, trying to figure out the steps of the other and building on them. And when they finished, Robin felt an odd, breathless joy building in her chest. And a desire for… Something. Something more than just these occasional meetings, caught between so many other people.

Something that belonged to just them.

-o-o-o-

She reaches up, one hand anchored in that wonderfully messy hair, the other splayed across his back, so she can pull Chrom down to rest on top of her. He follows her lead, putting his mouth back over hers so their breaths mingle together.

He gives a low moan against her mouth, the heat from his lips and breath a sharp contrast against the cool, silken sheets.

When they break apart, she has to take a deep, shuddering breath, before the pounding in her heart and blood threatens to pull her under and leave her robbed of words. Above her, Chrom does the same. She's keenly aware of how their chests brush together when they breathe, and how that shoots heat down into her stomach and between her legs.

She manages to push her hand between them, pressing it into Chrom's stomach and letting her fingers drift down. This time it's her turn to be cautious, feeling him out.

"Chrom… Are you…?" She tries to find enough breath to speak, and some speck of rationality left in her brain. "Do you… Want this?"

It takes him even longer to find his breath, and Robin faintly realizes that her hands likely aren't helping him speak. She draws them away… Only for him to shift against her, a hand on her elbow and holding her in place.

"Yes." He says. "Yes, and yes again."

It's the best he can manage, before giving a strange moan in the back of his throat, as he forces himself up. His hand falls away from her arm, resting on her skirts. The fabric is going sodden with sweat, and Robin is more than ready to rid herself of them. When he hooks his thumbs into the fabric and pulls, she eagerly lifts her hips up.

Her dress barely has time to slide off the bed and pool on the floor, when her hands go to his pants and work at the belts. He's eager enough to help, proving that he's as ready as she is. He kicks off the last of his clothing, until at last there's nothing left between them.

Then, he presses his hand to hers, pinning it to the pillows. When they push themselves together, and lose themselves in the sensations, their fingers stay entwined the entire time.

-o-o-o-

Their meetings began blurring together; he wasn't certain how many times they saw each other, only that each turn of the moon and shift of the sun was something he looked forward to now, instead of dreading. Because it meant that he'd see her again, even if it was only for a few candle marks.

And that was why it felt like something was gouged out of his chest, when he couldn't find her. No matter how often his eyes roved over the night court, still occupying their own part of the ballroom, he couldn't find the familiar gleam of her hair.

"ROBIN!?" He couldn't keep the name from shouting out of him, hoping she'd hear it-

Instead, his eyes caught on a familiar woman standing apart from the crowd. He took a nervous step towards her, only for her to shrink away. It made him wonder, if it had hurt Robin as much when he'd first pulled away from her.

The stranger kept moving away, though there was a look in her eyes that told him to follow. So he did so, guided to the very edges of the meeting room. Only then does the stranger speak up.

"My daughter… Couldn't bring herself to come to court." The older woman tells him. "I tried to convince her otherwise, but… The best I could do was have her linger, in the guest suites. Something is wrong with her… Something I can't help with, even as the new ruler for my people-" It was the only hint she could give him, but it sent him charging off to the wings of the palace.

And that was where he found her, hunched over as she perched on a silk clad bed.

"R-Robin-?" He called out to her, and she flinched from his voice. She didn't turn to face him, and seemed frozen in place as he walked closer. "Why… Weren't you at court? I wanted to…" There was an odd yearning in his heart at that, something he couldn't quite voice. So instead he settled on another question. "What's wrong?"

It took her a moment of shuddering breaths, before she could answer. Chrom found himself resting his hands on her shoulders and thumbs rubbing her collarbone, to ease her breathing and coax her into speaking. And when she did, the words rushed out of her.

"I… I wish I'd been born into the Day Court, the same as you." She'd whispered to him. "And it makes me feel like a traitor; both to my court, and to you. That I'd sully you by…"

"By… Wanting to be with me?" He murmured, and his hands went from her shoulders, up to her face to gently cup her chin. She barely managed a nod. "Robin… What if I told you… I was thinking the same thing?"

And the look she gave him was so desperate and hopeful, that he found himself leaning forward to kiss her.

-o-o-o-

In the afterglow, they stretch out against the sheets. Chrom lays against Robin, boneless and satisfied, while she rests her head against his chest. He keeps one arm thrown around her, to keep them close together.

"I…" He feels her throat pulse against his skin, as she draws in breath to speak. "…I'd cross over to your court, if only I could. For the sake of being by your side every day and every night."

"And I'd do the same." He finds himself saying… And knows that it's true the moment he speaks. "I never really understood how beautiful moonlight and dusk can be, until now-"

She stills at that, and for a moment he wonders if he's said something wrong. But when she raises her head, there's an odd, eager light in her eyes.

"I read once… That there's been suggestions of forming other courts, beyond the Day and Night. And why not? There's Dawn and Dusk in the cycles. We… We might even be able to…" She gives him a desperate look, only to relax when she sees the grin crossing his face.

"I don't think my sister would be opposed to such a thing."

"And my mother stressed I read those records as well. That's… Part of why I ran, because I was afraid you'd not want such a thing…" He can only shake his head at that; he's come a long way from being a skittish prince, not knowing how to handle himself in court and mingling with others.

"I wonder if I've thanked you enough." He says instead, and is rewarded by a blush traveling across her skin. "For showing me there's more things on earth and in the heavens, than just the sun."

"I-I think you've made your gratitude and affection quite clear." She tells him. "Though if you'd like me to return it…"

The kiss she plants on his mouth is a little more gentle this time, exhausted as they both are. But he still savors it, treasuring the gentle touch, and the woman behind it.


	10. Pirates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as the Skies of Arcadia AU.

The moons paint the night sky in a rainbow of colors, forming a shifting aurora. The perfect conditions for sky sailing. Chrom lifts his head to the stars, taking in the sweet, cool breeze. The ship sighs around him, riding across the cloud strewn sky.

"Hey, captain. You gonna give us a direction? Or just star gaze all night?" He tries not to blush under Sully's ribbing. The sailor needs to pitch her voice to reach him, but she's still able to perfectly balance teasing and scolding.

"Guess that depends on what we find." He calls down from his spot in the crow's nest. He forces himself to look back up, and start scanning the horizon with purpose. No more enjoying the breeze or the light of the moons… Though he can always use them to track their location, he realizes.

The silver moon is at their backs, and he can just see the yellow moon rising up in front of them. A clear marker that they're heading into Valuan airspace.

' _Dangerous pickings for a pirate… But high risk means high reward. Especially if we can find an armada vessel.'_ He can feel that same nervous anticipation spreading through the crew below, with how they murmur and restlessly shift at their stations.

"Sir… Are you certain on this?" Frederick climbs halfway up the rigging as he speaks. The eldest of their crew also still has a knack for reading his thoughts. "It's a tall order to-"

"To fire on our old country?" Chrom cuts him off. "We won't kill anyone, if we can help it; we're Blue Rogues. Not Black Pirates; and if Valua has forgotten honor and chivalry, we'll see if we can't remind them of it…" He lets his words sink in for just a moment, before adding "…And aside from that, we all KNOW they have the best bounty!"

He's pretty sure Frederick gives a snort at that, but hides it under a sharp "As you say, sir."

Frederick drops back down to the deck as he speaks, barking orders to the crew to put on full sail and engine speed. Chrom catches the scent of burning moonstone drifting up into the air, as the ship puts fresh fuel into the engine. The fins of the ship all churn like a skyfish, and their vessel surges completely into Valuan airspace. The sky reflects that change, smears of dark clouds obscuring the former glory of the sky.

But even through the shrouded skies, he can pick out something bulling its way through the clouds. The yellow and silver moons pick out rivets in a steel ship, and the propellers and turbines churn the clouds into a fine mist.

He's seen that ship often enough; sometimes even sailed on such things, before the steel ships and corridors felt too suffocating. Chrom frowns at the memory, before shaking his head; this isn't the time to dwell on the past.

' _At least we've found exactly what we were looking for.'_

"Valuan armada vessel!" Frederick bellows out. The crew scrambles to attention, as Frederick hands the authority over to the raiders; Sully and Vaike are a mismatched pair, but still manage to whip the crew into a furor, and push the ship close enough to get the Valuan battleship into range of their cannons.

Chrom takes in one quick breath to better brace himself against the crow's nest. Below their gunner Stahl calls out the command to fire. Plumes of fire and smoke burst from the side of their ship, and answering explosions spring up along the Valuan vessel.

The armada ship lists from the impact, sparks flying from the propellers. The vessel limps along, easy prey for his own ship to swoop in and throw out grappling hooks.

"Haul with a will!" Frederick tells them. Cranks and spools all wind up, or the stronger of the crew pull tight on the ropes. Until their own ship flies just above the firing path of the Valuan cannons. Many of those cannons spit sparks and bleed smoke as well, unable to bring the barrels against their ship.

And Chrom finds himself grinning; it's time to carry out the boarding. He throws out his own line onto the ship below, sliding down the rigging. For a heartbeat, there's only clouds and empty sky lurking below him. The next breath, the steel deck blocks the sky, and Chrom drops heavily onto the ship. He gives only a slight wince when his feet touch down; he's never cared much for the sterile steel Valua seems to prize for their ships.

"HEY! Don't take all the treasure for yourself!" He gives one more wince when Lissa shouts at him, and follows him over to the Valuan ship. Her landing is more of a stumble, but she still brings her own axe up to the Valuan soldiers storming along the deck. Chrom takes in their forces, seeing just what they're up against.

The soldiers already wear their heavy steel armor, echoing the cold metal of the armada ship. Chrom twirls his own sword; he's worn that armor before, and knows how it slows the fighter down.

"Keep dancing outside of their range." He murmurs to Lissa. "They'll tire out before we do."

He counts out a dozen fighters at least, looks over the heads of the soldiers… And wonders at an odd looking third ship, tethered near the prow of the main vessel. The wane strands of moonlight pick out an odd, brilliant metal, so unlike the dark ship steel.

"I'm sorry, did we interrupt you in the middle of something?" Chrom asks the Valuan soldiers; they're quickly surrounding him and Lissa, glaring through the oversized knight helms. Which makes him glad that he DID run off before his father could enter him the military.

The soldiers look ready to draw steel on them… Up until he speaks, and raises his head enough for them to pick out his features.

"Wait, you're… Chrom! Traitor to the crown!" One of the soldiers sneers out.

"Guess you all still recognize me." Chrom says, trying to keep his voice mild; it certainly counters the venom in the soldier's voice. And even with the knight helms clamped over their faces, he can feel the heat in their glares.

"Send a runner to the bridge!" The lead soldier barks, before turning back to Chrom. "Gangrel will love hearing about this; he's been wanting to hunt you down."

"Didn't know we were on his ship." Chrom says, glancing about. Though as he takes a closer look, the place DOES have the look off a flagship. Ornamental metal work is engraved along the canons, along with splashes of red and yellow paint.

"Guess that being a lowlife pirate robs you of any class, or ability to recognize emblems. You missed your chance, staying in Valua and going to the military academy."

"Oh, we were considering it. Up until they made those goofy looking helmets part of the uniform." Lissa backs up her words with a cheeky grin. But as she speaks, Chrom looks back to the silvery ship; out of the loop or not, he's certain neither Valua or any of the other nations have come up with such otherworldly designs, or instituted them in the fleets-

But he doesn't get much more time to gawk. Not when the Valuan soldiers throw themselves forward. Then it's time to cut his way through their ranks. He remembers his advice to Lissa, and keeps his footwork nimble. He remembers the rote sword work his father tried to drill into him, and sees it echoed among the soldiers; stiff, cumbersome sword swings that are easy to dance between, or parry.

Then he gets the turn to strike back. His blade flashes between green and red, reacting to the moon stones on his and Lissa's belts, and giving his attacks an extra, magical bite. His first strike trails fire in its wake, echoing the ruby moon that resides over the desert kingdom. The next strike has a green glow, giving the air a brief and noxious taste, like the poison and verdant jungles of the emerald moon.

And all the blows shear through metal, either through flame or corrosive venom. He drops two soldiers with those elements alone. And however much the Valuans might boast about their training and discipline, he finds he can easily keep pace with them and slice a path through their ranks. Lissa stays behind him, covering his back. She keeps her axe at the ready, and the green moon stone blazes at her side; ready to be called up on for more potent magic. And as they clear space, the other pirates are able to jump on board and lay into the ranks.

Vaike is howling and challenging everyone to fight him, while Frederick yells at him to reign it in and focus on capturing the ship wheel and engines. Sully is made of sterner discipline, wielding her spear in a sweeping fan, while Stahl pairs up with her.

Finally Chrom punches through, and finds himself staring across the wide steel deck, to a single figure. The stranger is dressed in too fine silks, black and gold, matching the preferred colors of the stormy nation Valua… And he keeps an odd bundle thrown over his shoulder. It takes Chrom a moment to realize he's carrying around a person, laying limp against him.

"Looks like we found our admiral." Lissa spares the man a quick glance, scowling at him. "Gangrel."

Her voice barely reaches the man, and he pauses in his steps, turning towards them. Gangrel notices Chrom's sight sneers at him.

"Well… And here I was just going to leave. Glad I delayed enough to see what sort of vermin infested my ship." He ends with a snarl, and tosses his hostage to the floor. "I suppose I can take time out of my schedule to deal with you… And I have to wonder what would be better. Taking your corpse back to your family, or let them squirm when they see what their wretched son has turned into."

Chrom narrows his eyes at that, but doesn't answer to Gangrel's jabs… In part because his eyes are still on the hostage, sprawled across the deck. Her clothing is an odd mixture of dark robes and silver, and her pale hair is like a splash of moonlight across the dark tinged steel.

Gangrel steps over her prone body, all his focus on Chrom as he draws his own blade. Chrom frowns at the crackling electricity; proof Gangrel is carrying his own shard of moon stone. This one echoing the thunder clouds and yellow moon holding dominion over Valua.

Gangrel moves like lightning, throwing himself at Chrom and meeting him in a clash of swords. There's no armor slowing the admiral down, and his cuts are savage slices. One of them cuts a buzzing line along Chrom's arm, and he falters against the assault.

"See, pirate?" Gangrel hisses out. "We LEARN things in your old homeland; like how to put your kind to the sword-"

"…Stop!" Someone shouts that out. At first, Chrom thinks its Lissa. But she's busy fighting the Valuan soldiers… And beside that, there's an authority to the voice that he's never heard from his sister. Gangrel even hesitates for a moment, looking over his shoulder.

Beyond him, stranger groans, raising her head up, pushing herself slowly onto her elbows and staring around. Something glows against the stranger's chest, like her heart has a fragment of starlight shoved into it.

A shudder rocks the ships, and even seems to rattle the clouds. Chrom fights to keep his feet, looking around and wondering how the Shepherd had managed such a shot… But his own ship is reeling, like something tore into it. And when the clouds shift, he can see long claw marks torn across the sails.

"No way…" Lissa whispers, as she throws back the troops. "That can't possibly be-!?"

"…Gigas." Gangrel sighs out, half in terror, and half in awe. "So our little guest DOES have a rapport with one."

Chrom shivers at that; he's heard the stories of the giant monsters. The remnants of old, crumbled civilizations… And arguably the same creatures that brought ruin to those same civilizations.

Gangrel takes advantage of his awe, checking Chrom with his shoulder, then whirling around, ready to snatch the stranger up; and what else he's going to do to her, or force her to do, Chrom doesn't know. But he also doesn't want to see it play out-

Not anymore than the stranger does. She gives a strange, desperate cry in the back of her throat. In answer, a dark shape arcs and rises above the clouds… And Chrom can just pick out the neck and head of a strange, serpentine monster. Something that looks almost like a dragon.

The beast gives a rumble like thunder, before the jaws begin to part.

"…I really don't like how that looks." Lissa mutters to him.

"Get everyone back on board the ship. Quick as you can." He tells her. "I'll… Be along shortly."

He doesn't give Lissa any time to argue, as he throws himself forward. He doesn't bother with a sword, not wanting to take the chance of slicing up the stranger. Instead he leads with his shoulder, mimicking Gangrel's trick and slamming into him. The impact knocks Gangrel away from the stranger, while Chrom staggers closer to her. The admiral gives an outraged noise, swinging his sword around to try and skewer Chrom-

But the stranger doesn't allow for that, grabbing Chrom by the shoulders and throwing them both flat.

A second later, the monster overhead parts its jaws, as violet flame splashes down and explodes across the deck. Chrom slides across the metal floor, feeling his skin blister from the sudden surge of heat. But he fares better than Gangrel; Chrom can see the man's clothing burn, his hands furiously trying to stamp out the violet flames. But it's like trying to beat back a storm with his bare hands. The fire washes over him, consuming flesh and fabric alike… And even the blade of his sword turns to molten steel, dripping down on the deck.

Chrom ducks his head, looking away from the gruesome sight. Compared to that, sliding across hot metal means he and the stranger have gotten off relatively lightly.

"Th-thanks." He tells her… And sees that there's still a light burning against her skin. And it STILL looks unnervingly like his own red moon stone, only more concentrated and tinged with violet.

"Robin…" She can only manage her name, before clasping her hand over her heart and going limp. The glow subsides as she does that… And in the process, the dragon gives a long and strange howl; he can almost see moonlight streaming through the beast, as it goes translucent.

He'd marvel at the sight… If it weren't for another explosion rocking the ship. Chrom gets the feeling that the fire managed to find the ammunition locker, which is all electing to go off now.

He grabs Robin, gathering her into his arms as he sprints along the deck. His own ship has cut its way free, waiting for him to jump on board. Chrom forces himself to gather strength, racing hard along the deck; he can see that Lissa has already jumped across, waving him forward. Chrom tenses for his jump. He barely manages to throw himself onto the wooden deck, before the ship is off and away. Leaving behind a burning Valuan vessel.

"…Well." Lissa says, standing over him. "That was some raid. Though we barely managed to get any loot before it went up in flames."

"We're alive," Chrom feels the need to point out. "Despite everything that just happened."

He looks down to the stranger in his arms.

"And… I think we've finally got a bigger goal, than just being pirates and harrying imperial vessels."

"You want to figure out what's up with her?" Lissa asks. Chrom can only nod, until he feels Lissa give him an approving pat on the shoulders.

"Good answer... Captain." She grins. "You really ARE starting to act like a swashbuckler, you know. Protecting the weak, fighting the corrupt… All that good stuff."

"Thanks…" He murmurs; even if he feels less like a swashbuckler, and more like a landlubber. His legs are shaking so hard they won't hold him up. "I… Just want to figure out what the empire wants with her."

And if there was some weird connection between her, and that monster. Robin, for her part is giving Chrom a bleary eyed look, exhausted from the ordeal.

"Well. If Valua wants something from her, then it's OUR business to keep her out of their grasp." Lissa says, confident enough. Chrom tries to share that, giving a nod… And as confused as she is, Robin seems to understand that, with how she relaxes against him. The glow is gone from her skin now, and Chrom finds himself relaxing in turn.

"Guess we did find something interesting after all. Or someone interesting." Lissa continues, grinning at Chrom, and how he holds onto Robin. And as pink as Chrom goes, he can't quite bring himself to let go of her.

"Th-thank you…" Robin just manages. Chrom gives a gentle murmur in answer.

"Don't mention it; it's what Blue Rogues are supposed to do, after all." And he feels a little more confident as he says that; a little more certain… And feeling like a proper pirate, sailing the skies. The ship wheels about, ragged sails still capable of catching the wind.

"Blue Rogues…" Robin tests the word, almost like she's never heard of it before. But she seems to like how it sounds, with how she gives him a cautious smile.

Overhead, the skies clear again, showing a hint of the silver moon. Robin seems to relax from the sight as well, resting against him. Chrom lifts his head to that, giving the silver moon a quick, grateful prayer. Thanks for seeing them through the raid… And for the odd new ally he's found.


	11. Farm/Ranch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also contains traces of Stardew Valley, if you tilt your head to the side and squint.

"This is going to be a disaster." Chrom mutters to himself, looking out over a half rotted field. He has doubts anything can grow here, no matter what his letter said. The paper still rests in his hands, and he feels a temptation to crumble it in a fist or tear it to shreds. A part of him wishes he'd never read that letter, inviting him to a farm he's suddenly found himself inheriting…

…And yet, the rest of him can't help but see this as a challenge. Sure, the field is nothing more than a mix of mud and dust right now, but perhaps with some effort…

"You're really going to see this through, aren't you?" His sister asks, interrupting his thoughts. "Even though you already KNOW it's a lost cause?"

"W-well… It's important to try, right?" He takes in the field as he speaks, while Lissa makes a rude noise. At the end of the churned up dirt is a hint of a farmhouse; it's half dilapidated, like the everything else here.

But for all that, there's still something he can feel in the ground; a faint hum of power, like there's something locked beneath the soil. He can't help but think that if only Emm were here, she'd be able to tell for sure-

"Yeah, well… I know I can't talk you out of this, once you've set your mind to something," Lissa groans, thankfully interrupting his thoughts. "Look. I'm still planning to go back to school to be a nurse, but… Once summer rolls around, and I've got some vacation time, I'll come and see you. Promise me you won't die before then?"

"Promise." He knows the question is half joking, half sincere, and he returns it in kind. "You never know, I might have a green thumb after all."

"And maybe you can make pigs fly." Lissa shoots back at him, but with a little cheer behind her words.

At the very least, this will give him something to do. They both need something to take up their lives right now, and keep their minds busy. Lissa gives him a quick, friendly smack on the arm, wishes him well, and takes her leave. While he's left pondering the field, and any potential buried in the earth.

-o-o-o-

The first week is tough, but doable. Most of it is spent renovating the farm house, so it won't collapse from a stiff wind, or drown from a sudden thunderstorm. He's told they get a lot of those in the spring, so the roof gets extra care.

It helps that more than a few residents in the valley have stopped by to investigate their new neighbor. And give him a hand before he breaks anything. He learns a few new names in the process; Stahl is a nearby carpenter, and is less interested getting paid in money and more in potential food. Sully is a childhood friend of Stahl, and has some gruff advice on how to try plowing a field. Gregor is difficult to understand, and yet knows how to clean a house at surprising speed. Others give him advice, supplies, or a kind welcome.

By the end of the week, he has a new roof, some well worn but still sturdy furniture, a few oil lamps while he waits for proper electricity, and an improvised cooler to store food in. The last is courtesy of a woman named Miriel, who left oddly specific instructions on how to keep the ice blocks in perfect arrangement.

' _For all you know, there's runes or the like engraved on them, and they can't be disturbed… But it's too much to think about now.'_

Chrom finds himself laying back, bone deep exhaustion making him sink into the mattress. (Courtesy of a seamstress named Sumia. She'd asked for a little money in exchange… But mostly wanted the books his sister had left with him. Chrom makes a note that bartering seems to be a common occurrence here.)

He tilts his head to the side to look out the window, as he waits to fall asleep. Outside, the stark outlines of trees frame a night sky. He was told those were the remains of peach trees… And he wonders if he can find a way to revive them, and make that one of his first crops.

Chrom lets that thought carry him off to sleep. That… And wondering if there's another shape among the peach trees, swaying in rhythm to the branches. Or if it's just a trick of exhaustion. His eyes close before he can dwell much more on that, and he doesn't stir for the rest of the night.

-o-o-o-

The second week is hell. And frustration, but mostly hell. Chrom has always considered himself to be in good shape, and well tested against physical labor. Tilling the soil of a field makes him doubt that. By the time the sun sets, he's ready to collapse into bed.

His compromise is soaking in an old wooden tub. A far cry from the usual porcelain finery his family always favored… Which makes him already have a preference for it, even if he needs to pump his own water. Now he understands why his neighbor Donnel had instructed him to heat water, with just the sage words of "y'all are gonna thank me later." With a groan, Chrom collapses into the tub and gives Donnel a silent thanks.

He glances out the window of the wash house, and feels his heart sink a little. The best he's managed is a small garden outside the farm house. There's still an entire field to go, and to top it off those peach trees are stubbornly bare. Spring should be bursting into full force by the end of the week, and yet there isn't a hint of blossoms. He's already tried everything short of uprooting them; fertilizer, fresh irrigation, and enough pruning to make his arms feel like falling off.

He'd been warned that it might take years to see any results. It makes his heart sink, knowing the entire orchard might be a lost or near-dead cause. It also makes his head sink a little lower into the water, right as the sun sinks below the horizon.

It takes another hour, and the water growing tepid, to convince Chrom to haul himself out of the bath. An ingrained feeling of modesty reminds him to take a towel to wrap around his waist, even if he knows there's no one but him on the farm-

At least, that's what he thinks until he steps outside the bathhouse, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the stone floor. He freezes in the doorway, droplets pooling around his feet as he stares at the fields.

This time he's wide awake when he sees the figure moving among the trees. It's undeniably a person, and their motions have an flowing quality to them; almost like a dance. Over the whisper of the wind, he can almost hear hints of a voice, raised in song.

"What are you-!?" He blurts out, surprised at how his voice carries across the dirt and grass. It makes the stranger freeze, before spinning around to stare at him.

…Which is around the time Chrom remembers he has only a bath towel protecting his modesty. He catches little more than a flash of the stranger's eyes framed by white hair, before he slams the door to the bath house shut. Any chill from the night is banished by how much his face is burning up. His head bumps against the door as Chrom forces himself to calm down, compose himself… And wrap one more worn towel around him. It's not much of an outfit, but it will have to do.

But when he opens the door again, the stranger is long gone, and there's only the soft breeze rippling through the trees and tugging at their branches.

-o-o-o-

"A dancer?" Flavia, one of the shop owners, gives him a confused look when he broaches the question. She scrunches up her face as she processes his order, scanning vegetable seeds and sprouts across a checkout register.

"You sure you're not imagining things, city-boy? You might be working too hard." The tips of his ears burn at that.

"I-I know what I saw!" He protests. "There was someone out in my fields, though I don't know why…"

"I… Might have an idea." Comes a soft whisper. He turns to see the store bagger glancing up from his order, almost hiding behind her pink hair.

"Well, go ahead Olivia." Flavia loses her teasing tone, coaxing the girl instead.

"There… Is supposed to be someone who lives near your farm. Someone who knows older rites-"

"Witchcraft." Another of the staff, Lon'qu, finishes in a grumble. "Just some hedgewitch who knows a few dances. The next time you see her, just tell her to get off your land."

"I admit, I've never seen her." Flavia allows. "I… Don't know what she'd be up to, but rites might be true. And Lon'qu has it right as well. She's a recluse; if you're worried about her, just confront her, and she'll likely leave you alone. She does the same to the rest of us."

-o-o-o-

Another week passes, and the newly purchased corn grows well enough. Chrom allows himself a flash of pride when he looks at the small plot of garden land, and sees green stalks poking from the ground. With luck he'll have at least one crop to sell and barter. His eyes rove over the rows of slowly budding crops… And freeze, when he looks beyond them.

Out to the orchard. It isn't his imagination that the bark looks a little more vibrant. He's certain of that much, and races over to the trees. Running his fingers along the branches, he catches sight of new buds and limbs. It's enough to freeze his breath for a moment, and when he gets it back, it comes out in an awed sigh.

When night comes, he dims all the lights, and sits by one of the windows. And when he catches sight of a figure moving among the trees, he doesn't raise his voice for fear of scaring her off. Instead he watches her, dancing among the trees… And, he's certain, pushing a flicker of magic and life into them.

The last time he saw someone work magic like this, or show aptitude for this was-

He doesn't let himself finish that thought, and instead watches the young woman, and moonlight glint off the silver of her hair.

-o-o-o-

He isn't certain if jewelry was the right way to thank someone, but it's the best idea he has. It's still much too early for flowers, and his crops are still growing, too small to work as offering.

' _Besides, it's not like I'm going to do anything else with… With these things.'_

Looking at the old rings still sent a pang through him. He can still picture them around Emmeryn's fingers. He only hopes she wouldn't mind, that he's gifting them to someone else.

He leaves them in a box wrapped in ribbons at the base of one of the trees, pausing only to linger over the faint, pink blossoms. He hopes the gift conveyed his thanks, at the very least.

-o-o-o-

She keeps her steps silent, as she moves towards the budding trees. It lifts Robin's heart, to see life slowly moving through the branches, and the fragrant pink blossoms are pleasing even at night. Watching them prompts a smile from her, and a soft melody in her throat.

Her feet are already dancing across the ground, feeling the first blades of grass as she kicks off her shoes. The melody grows stronger in her throat, as Robin works through the lyrics her mother once taught her. The melody comes easily to her, as do the steps; it feels almost like she was born for this.

Of course, the fact that there isn't anyone shouting at her helps as well.

Over the weeks, she's watched the farm grow from her little cabin. There'd been a determination with her new neighbor… And it made her want to do something to help as well. Aside from that one heart stopping night, he hadn't done anything to stop her. Which she hopes is a good sign.

Her feet bump against something, stopping her dance short. Robin stares down, to a small black box wrapped in red ribbon, glittering in the moonlight. Cautiously she kneels down, lifting it up… And pausing over the tag on the ribbon; in the full moonlight, she could just make out the words.

"Thank… You?" Robin mouths them out. She pauses over the gift, carefully unwrapping it and gazing at the two rings within-

Until a branch snaps behind her, sending her spinning around. And coming face to face with her new neighbor in lamp light.

Her first instinct is to bolt, until she sees the shock in his face; a far cry from the anger she half expected.

"I…" He tried to say, holding a hand up to stall her from running. "I'm sorry, I wasn't certain if you saw my gift-? So I came out to check?"

She lifts the box in response, and a quick smile crossing his face when he sees the package. For her part, Robin looks over him, taking him in.

"…You're a lot more civil, when you're wearing more than a towel." Are the first words out of her mouth, and they prompt a startled laugh out of him.

"I-I guess so!" He looks down at himself… And Robin has to admit, he wears the color blue quite well, almost looking like he belongs in a navy-blue night. "And… Hopefully you're not in a hurry to run off this time?"

To that, she can only nod, and his smile widens.

"Good. Because there's A LOT I want to ask you about."

-o-o-o-

It takes some coaxing to invite his new neighbor into the farmhouse. He half wonders if she'll vanish in the glow of the lanterns, like a phantasm banished by strong light. She hesitates at the threshold, giving Chrom a look to make certain he's sure.

"Come on; I sort of owe you for working magic on the trees. The least I can do is give you some dinner." He's not entirely sure which part of his words coaxes Robin into the house. She looks almost like a wisp, or one of the fair folk Emmeryn told him stories about.

He shoves that thought aside, focusing on getting food out of the cooler and setting the table for the newcomer.

"Thank you, Chrom." He glances up from the table.

"You know me?"

"I know of you; you're all the town talks about, and what I overhear." She gives him a quick smile. "They've got mostly good things to say about you; that you've got some talent 'for a city boy.'" He isn't certain whether to grin or blush at that.

"S-so, what exactly are you doing out here and with the trees? If you don't mind me asking?"

"Well… It seems you care about the land, and the magic sealed in it. I've seen you looking at the trees, trying to nurture them, and I wanted to give you some help. Everyone else has, after all." Though at 'everyone' she lowers her eyes. And he remembers how little anyone seemed to know about this person; that she is almost as much of a stranger as he is, to the others.

"Well… I appreciate the help. But I also want to repay my debts. So is there anything I can do for you-?"

The hopeful look she gives him sends an odd pang through his chest.

"Having someone to talk to helps, a lot."

-o-o-o-

The next weeks go easier. The trees spring into full bloom, painting the farmland with vibrant pink blossoms.

And like clockwork, when the sun sets, his new neighbor shows up to work magic on the trees.

' _Robin.'_ He reminds himself of her name. She'd hesitantly offered it, before she left his company. He thinks it suits her; a name that promises spring and summer having their turn, someday. As Robin dances, Chrom does his best to once again prepare a meal; his resources might still be meager, but it feels like the best way to thank her, now that he's burned through any jewelry.

There's just one problem; that Robin makes for a surprising distraction as she dances, sings, and works her rites. He can't help but dwell on her voice, gently calling to whatever magic is locked in the soil. She sings as well as her namesake, perhaps even better… And with a rush of heat to his face, Chrom realizes that's too bold of a thought, for someone he just met.

And yet, he can't help but feel his mood brighten even more, when she finishes and walks inside. He has a meal of sweet potatoes and sandwiches set on the table; not the fanciest faire, but Robin still brightens up when she sees them.

"I haven't had these in so long!" She tells him, breaking her sandwich in half and blowing on the cheese to cool it. "My mother used to make cheese sandwiches and baked potatoes. But I never-"

She hesitates at that, and Chrom recognizes the hitch in her voice. It's the same he has, when he talks about Emm. Chrom knows that he came here in part to make a new start; now he finds himself wondering if it's the same for Robin.

"Just be careful you don't burn your tongue." He says instead, and decides to stock up more on sweet potatoes and cheese, the next time he goes the grocery store. He wants to see her brighten up again, like she does on the first bite.

-o-o-o-

A thunderstorm crashes down on them at the turn of the season. It stops Robin's dance early, and sends her dashing into the farmhouse, already half drenched. Chrom follows a moment later, wondering if this is the god's way of chastising him for going outside with Robin and doing very little beyond shooting her admiring looks.

Either way, they're both sodden and can only watch as the storm lashes the field. Flashes of lightning aren't very far behind, and Chrom is half ready to run outside and throw tarps over his crops.

"They'll be okay." Robin half reads his mind, reassuring him. "They're strong enough to survive a storm like this-"

In the distance, timber creaks and groans before crashing down with a terrifying splintering noise. They both look outside; the trees still stand, but at the far end of the field, Robin's little cottage has turned into a pile of tinder. Perhaps one section of the house is still standing, if that.

"So much for the roof." Robin stares at the house, and the places where the old building has collapsed and sunken in on itself. There's a trace of shock gripping her, leaving her eyes wide. "Or most of the house… I thought it was still strong enough, but-"

But she didn't have half a town turn out to help her reinforce the building. Because half the town doesn't know she has a talent in magic, uses it to help others, or that she smiles over cheese sandwiches and sweet potatoes.

For her part, Robin looks bewildered on what to do next. And he's not to keen on sending her out in the rain.

"You… Don't have to go back." Chrom finds himself saying. "There's a spare bedroom here, and I promise the roof doesn't leak too badly."

For a moment, he's worried she'll decline, and brave the storm and a half collapsed house… But there's an odd flicker behind her eyes, made all the brighter by the lightning flashes. When the bolts fade and shadows swath the house, he almost misses the way her head dips in a nod, and she gives a quite "…Alright."

-o-o-o-

He's right; the roof doesn't leak very much. The bed isn't much more than a mattress on the floor, but Robin can't complain. Her bones are starting to feel the effects of channeling so much magic, of dedicating several hours to spell work a day. At this point, anything that isn't hard packed dirt or floor feels amazing to lay down on.

Chrom lays out an extra shirt for her; one of his older ones, worn at the elbows and frayed at the seams. He freezes when he realizes what he's doing.

"I-it's just that you're already drenched, and you'd probably like some dry clothes, r-right?"

"…Right." Robin tells him, fighting to keep her own voice level. At this point, she's ready to overlook any awkwardness with wearing Chrom's clothing, if it'll help her dry off. He gives a stammered goodbye, and leaves her to change in peace.

She tries not to dwell on the feel of faint scent of him left in the fabric. Instead she works the buttons of the shirt, spreads her own clothes out to dry, and collapses into the bed.

Fatigue slowly washes over her, and she sprawls across the mattress. Faintly she's aware of Chrom in the other room, moving about and getting ready for bed. It's… Strange, to have someone else in a home with her. She's almost forgotten what it feels like, to feel someone else's presence, so close by. To have someone watching over her.

The thunderstorm isn't finished with them; there's still the flicker of lighting overhead, the grumble of thunder that keeps her awake… And makes her remember. Robin twists about, tangling in the sheets, doing her best to keep the memories away. But they seep into her head, the same way the thunder and drumming of rain soaks into her hearing.

She remembers the storm from a year ago; the torrents that brought her father to her doorstep, and how her mother went out to meet him. The thunder drowned out the specifics of their words, but she'd still been able to hear their shouts, their arguments… And how, with one brilliant flash of lightning, they both vanished.

She still doesn't know what her father wanted from her. Only that her mother put a stop to it… Even if it meant that Robin has never been able to find her. The last clue she's been able to hold onto, was a note instructing her to go to an old house. The same one bordering the farmland. It hasn't led to her mother… But it did guide her to Chrom.

"H-hey…" Speaking of. Robin throws herself upright, looking up at him. He hesitates in the doorway, looking oddly tense. There's something stopping the words in his throat, leaving him to stammer. "Sorry to bother you. I just… I wasn't sure if you were doing alright-?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He drops his gaze at that, letting his breath out in a slow sigh.

"…To be honest, I'm not a fan of thunderstorms. They… Sort of remind me, of what I've lost." Strange, how he seems to echo the loss trying to churn around in her heart. To stall those feelings in herself, and hopefully in him, Robin pulls herself up from the mattress. She wraps the blanket around her shoulders, as she walks over to him.

"You as well?" She finds herself saying. At his surprised look, she finds herself telling him some of what she's experienced. A part of her is shocked to hear herself talk; she's never shared this with anyone… And yet there's something cathartic about telling him. Even if her voice hitches once or twice; at least there's the pattering of rain on the roof to help mask that.

And in return, he opens up a little; that he lost his older sister and father in a storm, thanks to poor conditions and the car they were in. Judging by the tension in his shoulders and the choked quality of his voice, it's still a recent wound. Seeing that pain, it does something to Robin's thoughts. It mutes the cautious side of her, as she reaches out and brushes her hand over his.

There's more in common between them, then she first thought. They've both lost someone important in their lives, and came here to find some sort of healing.

' _And now you've found each other.'_

She wonders if it's just a consequence of fatigue, that makes her touch linger on Chrom's hand perhaps longer than necessary. Or maybe there's an odd spell woven by the rain, and the way it shrouds the house in a haze. Whatever it is, it makes Chrom turn his hand in hers and clasps back.

They don't share many more words. But they do share a night together, curled up together on the mattress. The heartache and painful reminders all dim, when they curl up next to the other, listening to the lightning and matching their breathing together. Somehow, it feels significant; like there's an unknown rite they've just discovered, and it has done something to that slowly growing bond between them.

-o-o-o-

Months shift by, from spring to summer. Blossoms are replaced by green leaves, and Chrom finds himself grinning as he contemplates the harvest.

Sharing the house with Robin has been a remarkably easy step. There's something the feels natural about it; and about waking up, knowing she's nearby and ready to start the day with him. It makes him a little more bold, ready to try out a few more crops.

Robin is surprisingly helpful with that, offering suggestions on what they could grow… And to his shock, being just as ready to help work the fields as him. But when the others from town come by, she loses that confidence, and seems ready to retreat back into the farm house. Or simply hide behind him. Sully gives Robin a startled look, Stahl seems concerned; the others have their own degree of surprise or confusion.

Chrom meets them all by gently squeezing Robin's hand, coaxing her to stay with him… And introducing her as his neighbor, and partner in getting the crops ready. She's a little glad he doesn't go more into the things that happen in the evening, and takes a deep breath so her face doesn't betray any of it.

And instead, she tries to work on giving a smile or a wave; both are hesitant, and feel almost out of practice… But the others don't remark on it. If anything, Sumia seems to brighten up when she realizes Chrom has company; or maybe it's just finding out Robin is an avid reader like her. Miriel seems more interested in Robin's contributions to the harvest, while Kellam simply gives a quiet, accepting nod.

"I was always worried they wouldn't want me around." Robin admits to him, that evening. "That I was too strange; it's not like rites and magic are a very common practice, anymore. Even Miriel treats them more like a science. I was so sure that they wouldn't…"

He finds himself reaching across the table to grasp her hands, stilling her words.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He tells her. "They've seen first hand what you can do at a farm." And it's true; despite being a city-boy, his fields can rival some of the other, longer established fields. Something he wouldn't have believed possible, just a few months ago. "And when we harvest, they'll really see what you're capable of."

But in the meantime, he's just fine with going outside to help Robin with her dances; as the nights have stretched on, she's even taught him a few of the steps. Whenever he tries to mimic her, her feels more than a touch clumsy, and it's a wonder he doesn't trip over the tree roots. But his company seems to lift Robin's spirits, adds some potency to her spells… And she also seems to prefer his company, whenever they step back inside.

-o-o-o-

The first harvest takes them almost a week to get through, picking fruit and pulling in vegetables. By the end of it, Chrom is certain they've earned the right to a first taste; when they sit down together and try the harvest, he can see Robin's eyes light up.

He's never tasted anything sweeter as well. Maybe that's just due to the company, but he's positive the town will enjoy it as well. When the weekend rolls around, the car is almost bursting with goods, leaving him and Robin little room to get in.

They've timed it well, however; they arrive in town right as Sumia finishes up hanging the streamers with Cordelia, waving them both towards the square. He's almost forgotten that there's supposed to be a festival, celebrating the first good crop. His heart swells a little, knowing they've got something to provide-

"…You've got to be kidding me." And he also almost forgot the promise he made to his sister. She stands in the village square, staring at the boxes and baskets of produce. Chrom offers Lissa a smile that turns a bit shy, once Robin steps out of the car.

"Well. You managed to not die. AND…You've met someone?" Lissa trails off, looking over Robin, a questioning look on her face. Chrom coughs as well, not certain for a moment how to describe his exact relationship with Robin; a partner, a friend and confidant… And someone who lately, he's treasured being around-

Robin helps him with that, by walking up next to him, and briefly touching her hand to his. He also feels something else rest in his hand; the band of a ring. With a start, he sees that she's wearing one of the rings he's given her.

And she seems to be offering the other one back to him; almost like another gift. Chrom can only squeeze at her fingers, as he slips the ring onto his finger. Odd, how the metal already warms to his skin, and how well both items fit him and Robin.

Lissa, for her part, is still busy gaping at both of them… And likely making a few connections. Somehow, he's not too worried about her getting any ideas about either of them.

"It's good to meet you." Robin offers, still holding onto Chrom's hand. There's a faint blush across her face, and the hint of a smile as well. Chrom finds himself wrapping an arm around Robin as she introduces herself, feeling a warm glow in his heart, rich enough to match the summer sun overhead.


	12. Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the Persona 5 fusion AU I desperately wanted to try out.

Chrom winces, as his father slams his hand down on the table. The impact resounds like a slap across the face, but still Chrom forces himself to stand his ground. Because of that, he can see the slight shift in his father's fingers. And see what is placed beneath them; a card, done up in red and a violet so deep it could be black. Six eyes, looking almost like a strange mask, are emblazoned on the paper and stare back at him.

He's never seen one of these in person before… But still knows what this is.

A calling card.

It's been delivered to those like his father, and he already knows the warning written on the other side. 'To the lord of sin, the Phantom Thieves will soon come to take your heart.'

His father balls his hands into fists, glaring at the card.

"They had the audacity to deliver it to me, in the middle of the meeting." Chrom doesn't dare broach the other side of that; there might not be many more meetings his father will attend, if and when the Phantom Thieves follow through on their threat. His father seems to realize that, when he looks up at Chrom.

"We won't sit idly by." Chrom isn't certain he cares for the steel in his father's gaze. Especially when directed at him.

"What… Do you mean exactly?"

"You recall when they broke Walhart, and his company. I had my own researchers look into it." His father measures Chrom, and Chrom can see the plan slowly unfolding in his eyes. "You're familiar with the concept of the Metaverse?"

He's never thought his father would so readily take leave of his senses. Chrom doesn't dare say that out loud, instead swallowing and shaking his head.

"It's… It's only a theory. You can't really think that-"

"Don't be stupid." His father cuts him off. "You've seen the evidence first hand; a man is changed overnight, his previous convictions overwritten, his very heart changed. What other means would there be, but the supernatural?"

Chrom doesn't dare disagree. And he also doesn't wish to voice something else; the strange dreams that have been plaguing him lately, of a murky, blue drenched room. And a voice, urging him to step over the threshold, into whatever waited beyond. Those dreams have only increased, with each calling card delivered.

' _Perhaps it's not all so impossible after all.'_ Chrom thinks to himself.

"I'd originally told my researchers there wasn't anyone with the potential… But I've noticed how you seem to have a foot half in this world, and half in another." Chrom winces; he'd thought he'd been doing a decent job concealing that. But his father quickly proves him wrong. "And pressing circumstances call for desperate measures."

"Father…?" He must be imagining, having weird dreams give him a sense of paranoia… Yet that explanation feels weak, compared to the haunted look on his father's face.

"There's a way to stop these thieves. Even if it requires some sacrifice… On all our parts."

Chrom stares at him, wanting to argue… Until he feels a collection of hands clapping over his shoulders, keeping him from fighting or bolting. And the decisive look in his father's eyes further freeze him in place.

-o-o-o-

He doesn't remember much of the procedure, beyond brief images and sensations. The feeling of needles and pipes biting into his skin, a rapier pressed into his hands with instructions to use it on the intruder, the taste of bleached out rooms so white they hurt the eyes… And the sensation of falling, fading, shifting between one world and the next…

…Until he opens his eyes. The lab equipment and eye blinding tiles are gone, and even the rest of the Ylisstol skyscraper has been scrubbed away. What replaces it is nothing short of a grand castle, all far reaching spires that touch the skies, golden roofs and ever shifting stained glass patterns adorning regal walls and gates. It would be beautiful, were it not for the ribbons of blood seeping down the towers, and the strange pointed barbed wires wreathing the ramparts.

Bits of information float back to Chrom; that in this world, desires manifest… And at times, distort.

And there's something about this place, regal and brutal, that feels like his father. And this is the place he's supposed to safeguard; a place that feels like it could easily crush him, under its weight and grandeur.

Chrom hesitates at the threshold of the castle doors, wondering if he should even consider walking in-

Only to have his mind made up for him, as he spots a shadow flitting along the walls. He's fixed to the spot, watching the flare of fabric that wreathes the figure and catches in the night winds; something that looks half like a coat, half like a pair of black feathered wings.

He's still finding his feet in this place, figuring out how it works… But he's certain that whoever this is, they don't belong here. Chrom tries to chart their path, and dashes in after the phantasm. His office suit feels garish and out of place among the stone walls and medieval finery… And compared to the strange, dark forms shambling along the passages. He falters the first time he sees one; something that barely looks like it could be human, and with glowing red eyes… And yet, whatever that thing is, it doesn't treat him as a threat, letting him pass without notice.

The same isn't true for the other intruder. That much is clear from a clash further down the hallways; the sound of metal crashing together, and the sudden taste of electricity filling the air. Chrom throws himself into a dash, even while a part of him screams caution; that the smartest idea would be to run away from the chaos-

But another part of him is tired of listening to cold rationality, or bowing to the whims and wills of those around him. This is his chance to confront whatever is going on… And perhaps to win some respect, if he can somehow dispatch the intruder, and safeguard this castle. He feels almost like a knight, charging into battle.

Some of that bravado falters, when he bursts through the doorways to an audience chamber. The décor itself is unnerving; statues of conquerors that resemble his father, all wielding swords and standing over broken forms. A testament to all the competition he's bested, Chrom thinks… And then his thoughts freeze, when he sees the carpets and who dances across the floor.

The phantom thief dresses all in black, with splashes of violet, and wear a strange, feathered mask over her face, with the impression of extra eyes along her cheeks and forehead. Wisps of long silver hair seem to glow in the chandelier candlelight… And in the sparks surrounding her fingers.

Chrom stares at the last; people CAN'T call lightning, much less command it. And yet, this young woman does just that, calling down flashes of what Chrom can only call magic. The black shapes from before try to rush her, showing fangs, claws, impossible limbs and features sprouting from them… But she still cuts them down, either with lightning, or with a strange, jagged sword dancing in her hands.

He's never imagined that a thief would act like this, or be able to fight in such a way; his own fencing lessons for sport feel woefully short compared to how she cuts and dodges. She tears apart the last creature with little more than a glance, scanning the room for anymore enemies. And that's when her eyes fall on him.

A part of Chrom wonders if she'll try to run him through. He feels oddly vulnerable, even with the rapier at his side; even his own suit feels pale and weak, compared to the strange clothes whirling around her.

"…You don't belong here." She says at last, taking him in.

"I could say the same about you." Chrom counters, the gravity of the situation dropping back over him like a mantle. He tries to cloak himself in it, and stand up taller. He HAS to act the part of a defender, Chrom reminds himself. "I presume you're the one who sent the calling card to my father? He won't permit you to run rampant through his heart or mind… And neither will I."

"You… Wait, are you his son? Chr-?" She stills on his name, and there's a strange pressure around Chrom's head at that. Something that suggests names have power in this place.

"…So you're the Prince of this domain." The stranger says instead, and Chrom can hear the title behind her words. Something about that name makes him shiver, and feel that odd humming start in his head again.

' _Stop dwelling on it!'_ He tells himself, shaking his head and glaring at the intruder.

"Do you have a name, thief?" He tries to keep his voice cold, measured… And hates how much he sounds like his father.

"…You can call me 'Grim.'" Says the thief. "And you can also stand aside. Your father needs to pay for his crimes."

"And YOU'RE the one to do it, from the shadows, behind a mask and a fake name? That doesn't instill me with any trust… Or any will to let you do as you please." He draws the rapier as he speaks, even as he wonders how he'll stand against someone with magic, and superb reflexes.

For her part, Grim narrows her eyes behind the mask, and shows her teeth for an instant.

"I'm not exactly swayed either, Prince. Your father sent you in here, either as a pawn… Or a sacrifice." A chill churls in his stomach at that, and Chrom opens his mouth to argue… But the words don't come. All he can think of is the cold look from his father.

"Regardless," says Grim. "I can't exactly cut down a human like I can a Shadow, without feeling like a murderer." That might put them at an impasse… Though a part of him is also surprised to know she has such a code of honor.

"So what then? If neither of us can fight-?"

"Well, you can always TRY to catch me first." She trades her snarl for a smirk, and points upwards. A sudden spark of lightning shoots from her fingers and severs one of the chandeliers, dropping it between them with a crash of metal and flash of golden lights.

Over the chaos, he glimpses Grim retreating, running for the tables of the hall and leaping onto them. She springs from them to a balcony, hauling herself up. Chrom gives chase, grunting and growling under his breath as he hooks his fingers into the railings, and pulls himself up.

"…Well, you're strong. I'll give you that!" Grim calls over her shoulder, still running. Chrom needs only a moment to catch his breath, before giving chase. There's an odd fire that seems to stick in his lungs, gathering along his skin as he pushes himself… And he even catches a flash of blue, trying to flicker to life along his clothing.

What this place is doing to him, he doesn't know. But he doesn't dare stop. He doesn't know what Grim might do to his father… Or how his father might react to that, and what the ripples of all this will mean for his sisters. The fire in him grows as he pursues. Grim leads him along twists and turns, and no matter how Chrom pushes himself, he can't seem to close with her-

Until Grim comes to a halt in a narrow, vaulted room. Chrom steels himself, tries to tackle her, only for the sight of the room to steal his breath.

This place is a blending of cathedral and throne room, elegant glass works displaying the prowess of his father, the rise of the Ylisstol family company… And yet the floor is a mixture of black pitch and strange, faded red carpets, that cling to his ankles. A splashing sound reaches his ears, as strange crimson and black ripples distort the floor.

That's when he realizes that he and Grim are wading through blood. The smell hits him all at once, drowning him in a metallic, half rotten stench. It drops him to his knees, which only brings him closer to the blood soaked floor, and makes him all the more nauseated.

Chrom struggles in the sudden morass, and he finds himself straining and staring upwards. He stares up at the windows, strangely bright compared to the gloom coating the floor… And his eyes catch on the images. His father is resplendent, brilliant, but there's also images of Chrom and his sisters… And compared to his father, they look oddly diminished. And always kneeling before his father, always subservient.

' _Is that how he sees us? How he sees the world?'_ Chrom thinks, still sinking deeper-

"Easy, Prince." And yet, Grim doesn't leave him behind, choking in the contents of the chapel. She could easily let him sink, the red sticking to him like tar and pulling down at him… But instead, Grim reaches out, clapping her hands around his shoulders, and pulling him up.

Chrom is wrenched upright, and crashes into her, breath shuddering in and out. Splotches of red stain his clothing now, yet the red easily slides off of Grim's costumes.

"Do you still defend your father, seeing this?" Grim doesn't offer him a reprieve, and Chrom peels his lips back in distaste. He can't bring himself to answer her; not yet… And yet, Grim doesn't press him.

"Well enough. We've reached the room with the treasure." He risks a look around, and notices a strange, gleaming mass rising from the mire; an ornate throne. And resting on the arms of the chairs is a strange, unsheathed blade.

Chrom forgets his disgust for a moment, and finds himself walking towards it. Something about the blade draws him, the way it gleams in the multicolored light, almost glowing so that none of the pitch or shadows can sully it.

"That's not quite what I thought the treasure would be…" Grim murmurs at his side. "Walhart's was an emerald, and Gangrel opted for a sapphire. But this is…"

"Wait. There's something else." Chrom blurts out before he can really think. A part of him KNOWS how much of a bad idea it is, to point out unusual things to a thief. The rest of him remembers how she helped him out, and can't help but be curious about this place in turn.

And he's curious for good reason; nestled in the velvet cushions of the stone is a strange, diamond like gem. He goes to pick it up-

And all around them, the glass windows shatter, pelting them with a rain of glass shards. Grim throws her robe over Chrom, shielding him from the razor sharp pieces. She still gasps a little, as some score cuts along her cheek. Droplets of red fall down her face and sink into the mire coating the floor.

"So the thieves show themselves…" Comes a low rumble of a voice; it sounds almost like thunder is spilling into the throne room. There's a strange echo and distortion behind it, like someone has taken the sneer that always lurks behind his father's words and brought it right to up to the force of a shout.

Chrom turns, and his arms seem to move on their own accord, stretching out to shield Grim. Fair is fair, he tells himself; protecting her when she did the same for him… And then, the sight of his father banishes all those thoughts.

Or at least, the figure is something like his father. Only now dressed head to toe in gold armor, marred by streaks and splashes of red. There's also a fissure in the breast place, right where the heart should be… And in its place, there's nothing. Just a gaping void of shadow. There's a similar shadowed quality to his face, and someone has replaced his eyes with flecks of gold… And marred his face with a mixture of scorn and pride.

"And I find not just a thief," his father continues, "but also a son who looked too far above himself. This is no place for you, boy."

The contempt in his voice makes Chrom stand bolt upright, glaring at the man. A few hours ago, his father was ready for Chrom to lay down his life, or his mind, in the name of stopping these thieves. And now, he seems to have discarded all of that. And gone back to treating Chrom with his usual mixture of disappointed contempt.

"What are you talking about!?" Chrom snaps. He can't keep the words from exploding out of him. "You brought me here, told me to defend you-!"

A metal wreathed hand snaps across his throat, wrenches him away from Grim and slams him into the wall for good measure. Little grains of shattered glass cling to the bricks, and cut at Chrom's skin. Chrom's breath gets driven from his lungs at the impact, and then wheezes in his throat thanks to the iron grip.

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak." His father continues, staring down his nose at Chrom. "You always were too proud. Not obedient, like your sisters-"

"DON'T BRING THEM INTO THIS!" Chrom screams at him, even as the fingers tighten around his throat in retaliation. Anger and panic all flare across him, and remind him of similar threats; to always carry out his instructions, lest he wants his father's attentions to land on his sisters.

"They're mine to use as I please… And not as expendable as you."

His father, as it turns out, still finds new ways to cut at Chrom. He can only stare up at the man in disbelief, writhing and struggling against the grip and the words.

"…Does that shock you to hear such things? You should've known; should've understood your place, as a tool of mine."

As his father speaks, Chrom glimpses the cracked windows reshaping. In the new images, Emmeryn and Lissa are forced under the grip of his father's hands. His vision starts to dim around the edges, and his head pounds from a mixture of pain and lack of oxygen. "You threw your lot in with this thief. I could see that clear enough… More proof that you were never the obedient… _Son_ I needed."

The way his father spits that word out, it isn't the preferred term; Chrom can easily imagine him saying 'servant' in its place.

' _Is that really how he thinks of me-?'_

"You're a disappointment." His father continues, tightening his fingers and ready to crush Chrom's windpipe. His other hand unsheathes the sword at his side, bringing up a strange, night-black blade to level on Chrom's throat. "You can do one thing well, however; you can die easily-"

His father doesn't get to finish, when Robin brings her sword crashing down on his arm.

"PRINCE!" She shouts; the attack drops Chrom to the floor, where the mire eagerly latches onto him. He doesn't have the strength to stand, to fight-

' _Is that true?'_ Whispers an odd voice in his head. Before him, Grim desperately fights his father, trying to drive him away from Chrom. His father simply looks at her in contempt, ready to swat her away next. _'Is this how you give up? You accept the judgement of your father, with no more fighting?'_

He finds himself glaring up, even as miasma cloaks his vision.

"I refuse." He growls out. "You're my father; not my lord, and not my master. And I won't stand by, and let you treat people like this!"

He screams the last… And wonders at the echo that reverberates through his voice. Like his body doesn't entirely belong to him any longer.

" _So you break from one lord, and decide to serve a new cause."_ The echo grows louder, forming its own voice. And his skin trembles under the force of the voice, shivering as a strange spark seems to light in his heart and boil to the surface. That spark turns real as blue flame suddenly ignites along his skin and clothes… And yet he feels no pain. Only a strange rush of exhilaration. Chrom breathes out, and feels his lips quirk up in an odd, almost feral grin.

" _And I'll swear my sword to you in turn, offer my spirit and strength in your service. IF you accept."_ The power seems to freeze in place, even the flames flickering and halting for a split second, burning the sight into his eyes.

The specter of his father turns towards him, throwing back Robin, trying to bring a wicked blade down on Chrom.

"I accept." His voice is little more than a whisper… And yet, it's enough for the presence in his head. He glimpses a strange form rising from his shoulders, looming over him. Its features are obscured behind a strange butterfly mask, with a long cloak trailing off the shoulders, flickering oddly at the edges and giving an impression of wings. Sometimes looking insectoid one moment, other times draconic.

It makes Chrom shiver, and he feels an odd clinking of metal along his arms. When he chances a look down, it's to see his outfit has changed; his business suit traded out for regal looking armor and robes, deep navy, violet, and gold trimmed. It makes him a match for Grim, and makes his father snarl… And ripple and distort. If a change has gripped Chrom, a bloody, body wracking transformation tears at his father.

"So that's what the Shadow turns into." Grim says, narrowing her eyes. Chrom is simply glad the new change he went through keeps his stomach stable, even as his father's face splits apart, showing fangs and a long crown of horns growing from his head. The Shadow, Grim called it, bristles and almost fills the room, looking more like some sort of monstrous combination of human and dragon… And still full of fight.

His father's black blade has merged into his arm, turning into a strange claw. It cuts down, and Chrom struggles to bring his rapier up to block the blow… But the thin blade is feeble, against the great sword. It holds only for a moment, then shatters with a painful shrill cry. Chrom has to dodge back, a sharp pain opening along his shoulder. Chrom grits his teeth, casting around for another weapon… And finds just such a thing, resting on the throne.

He grips the blade, striking out with the sword and meeting the black blade again. This time, it's the shadowy edge that gives way to Falchion-

Chrom can only stare, wondering how he's figured out the name of the sword. But it feels right, the same way it fits into his hand. Even as the monstrous version of his father spits curses.

The battle turns into a flurry of sword swipes, angry roars, and the hiss and crackle of lightning. Until at last, his father collapses to the floor, shrinking back in on himself.

"H-how… How could you betray me…?" He snarls, still glaring up at Chrom. Grim kneels nearby, spent from all her magic. His father gives a shudder, then tries to claw and crawl his way towards the gemstone, focused on it beyond anything else… And as Chrom watches, he's gripped with the memory of his father's cold nature, the way he forced Chrom into this experiment and dungeon, and then tried to KILL him-

It all clouds his mind again, turning to rage. Chrom turns his back on his father, stalking towards the diamond still resting on the throne.

"Because you're blinded by your own interests." Chrom snaps. "And if this is the only way to bring you to your senses-"

Grim realizes what he's doing a second too late. She screams out a warning, but Chrom still brings his sword down on the gem. There's a maddened strength to his arms, a supernatural crackle of energy moving through his limbs… And against that, even a gemstone can't stand against him or the blade. The stone shatters with a strange scream, echoed by his father giving a long, berserk howl.

And the violence rocks through Chrom, like the broken treasure is taking its own anger out on him. The backlash opens wounds and cuts along his arms, staining his new clothes with dark red and purple splotches.

"Prince!" Grim yells, and even as he collapses. His father is dissolving before his eyes, becoming a black mass of shadows, and all of them are reaching out hungrily for him… But Grim yanks him upright, throws his arm around her shoulders, and half drags him out of the room. Somehow, through it all, Chrom keeps a hold of Falchion.

The palace crumbles around them; ornate paintings and tapestries seem to rot, all the masonry gives up on holding the stonework together, and Chrom is certain they'll be buried in a rough hewn, ruined tomb.

"Y-you should-"

"I am NOT leaving you behind." She growls at him, leaving no room for argument. She pulls at him… And because he doesn't want to see her die, Chrom forces himself to walk, even as his vision blurs. Grim's voice keeps him going, even as she pants for breath.

"I've never seen that happen before, with a treasure; never knew you could destroy those things… Or have one person's treasure bond to another. Gods, I don't even know what that's going to mean for your father…" Her words fade in and out around him, sometimes giving way to blood pumping through his head… Until at last, they come to a stop.

His vision is still flickering around him, doing weird things to the scenery. At one moment there's a castle overhead, crumbling to ruin and dust. The next, the Ylisse skyscraper standing tall and gleaming in the setting sun. But no matter how the world shifts, the hands on his shoulders stay solid. He's pulled into one of the side streets, deposited on the sidewalk.

"Prince…?" Comes Grim's voice, trying to hold him to the world. "Come on, Prince… Stay with me. I came to steal treasures, NOT have deaths on my hands! Least of all… Y-you."

"I-I have a name, you know." He finds himself wheezing. "I-it's-"

"Chrom. Sorry; I just didn't want to give up your true name in there. It can be dangerous… About as dangerous as destroying someone's treasure." The strange, shadowed quality to his thoughts prove that. It feels like he's back in the mire, about to sink under. The world feels oddly… Fragile, or even misty around him; like that strange world has a stronger hold on him, and wants to pull him back.

Grim's hand is the only thing that keeps him anchored, keeps him awake… And makes his eyes widen, as she bends down and whispers something in his ear.

Something that sounds like her own true name.

-o-o-o-

His father hasn't awoken from the coma. It's the only thing he sees in the news, the first thing he hears from the company staff when he wakes up in the mornings. Chrom has to bite down on bile and sickness whenever he thinks about why that might be.

' _How could you do that? To your own father?'_ His thoughts hiss at him, always wondering what sort of madness seized him. And the new presence in his head offers no answers, instead opting to lay dormant. It's like the thing can't manifest in the normal world.

Thankfully, he isn't left alone to stew in his guilt. Because Robin has stuck with him. When he was flickering in and out, trying to shrug off the hold of the metaverse, she'd pulled him to a safe spot; his own home. She kept talking with him the entire time, trying to explain the rules of the world, and the gravity of what he accomplished; summoning an entity called a Persona, destroying a palace treasure… And somehow reshaping another treasure to fit his own will.

The blade, Falchion, somehow followed them out of the metaverse. And it seems to act as an anchor, keeping the hold of the metaverse at bay.

Robin voices that theory, and keeps meeting with him and explaining the rules of that strange world they found themselves in. And… He discovers he isn't the only one in the family who knows about it, when Robin brings his younger sister forward, and introduces her as a friend and ally. And that she goes by the name "Mend" in the other world.

Small wonder she knew where to take him, in that case.

Lissa hesitates to meet his eyes, while Chrom stares at her. Suddenly, those threats his father made, make a lot more sense. And a burst of anger rouses him from his guilt and lethargy.

"We could use someone with your passion, you know." Robin tells him. "I… Don't know if or when your father might wake up, or what he's like. But… There are others out there. Whose hearts we need to change, and this is the best way we have to do so."

"And… Maybe that will make up, for what I've done?" Chrom asks her.

"I… I can't say for sure on that either. But I'd…" She seems loathe to leave him. And he feels oddly brighter in her presence.

He also can't turn his back on what he's seen, or the power that's awakened in him. And… There's still a desire in him to do something, instead of sitting back and being the passive son his father wished of him. It makes him swallow any regret, as he looks to Robin and nods.

"Well, I'm ready to try. Both to atone for mistakes, and…" And because this might be the beginning of something better. Regardless, it's something he's ready to fight for.


	13. Rock Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter one shot, with trace amounts of Jem and Holograms if you squint.

This guitar has seen better days. Robin can tell that from one look, and the worn strings. Chrom holds the instrument with an abashed look on his face, his fingers clutching at the neck.

"I know it's not the greatest instrument… Or the best maintained." He tells Robin, and she can only nod. Robin sighs as she looks over the guitar, because she can't exactly say no when Chrom is giving her pleading eyes.

And the fact is, she can instantly tell how to go about fixing this guitar. Even though it's going to demand so much of her time… But she can't find herself refusing the challenge.

"Give me until tomorrow." She tells him instead, and Chrom's eyes light up. Besides, who is she to refuse a rising star? She'd known who he was the second he stepped into her store; though he lacked the usual flashy outfits she'd seen during performances. The only real giveaway is his blue hair; while it might get a little more enhanced by dyes on stage, the color is still vivid enough. Enough to match the brilliant concert costumes.

But because of his plain outfit, she can better focus on his smile, and the way it makes him almost glow.

"Thanks!" He blurts out. "Really, thanks so much… This thing has a lot of sentimental value, and-"

Robin has to hold her hand up, to stall him.

"But if I'm going to have it ready for you by tomorrow, I need to get started on it NOW." And besides that… His grin is more distracting than she wants to admit. Better to get him out of her shop, so she can focus on the repairs.

-o-o-o-

It takes a night of hard work, but something pushes Robin through it. Every time she thinks about taking a break, there's another burst of energy to refine the strings, to buff out and treat the scuff marks. A part of her wonders how Chrom can be so careless with a treasured instrument. The rest of her finds the damage to be enlightening.

The pressure on the neck shows how tense he can be when performing, and how he grips the strings like they're a lifeline. The bit of worn paint along the pickguard and sound hole follows the shape and arc of his thumb, showing that he treats that as a spot to rub and work out all his stress. It's a study of how this man is a bit of a mess… But also plays beautiful music.

Robin knows that for a fact, as she puts on one of his albums on as background noise while she works. Once or twice, her fingers strum over the strings, trying to figure out how he pulls off the chord arrangements.

She works from evening to late night, pulling out a cot she keeps stowed under the work bench when she's done, and the last of that focused energy deserts her.

The next thing Robin is aware of, is a finger cautiously prodding her in the ribs, followed by a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. She blinks her eyes open to see Chrom staring down at her.

"Don't tell me you spent the entire night here?" She's not entirely sure why he has such a concerned look on his face; he wanted that guitar fixed, after all.

"I was inspired." She mumbles through sleep fogged head and lips. "Had a lot of stuff to do."

She raises a hand and points to the now mended guitar, resting on her work desk. She can't help but note that in the morning sunlight, the instrument looks striking and picturesque.

' _A match for the musician.'_

…She blames the drowsiness for that thought. Robin turns her head to the guitar, hoping Chrom doesn't see her blush. But still, he hesitates over her, instead of going straight to the instrument.

"You… Really didn't need to do that all of this for me." He keeps his voice soft, sounding oddly humbled.

"Wanted to. Though right now I could use coffee." She pushes herself up onto her elbows… Right as a styrofoam cup floats in front of her face. Chrom pushes the cup towards her.

"H-here. I hope it's okay that I already took a sip, but… You could have it instead." Robin finds herself taking it with a mumbled thanks, sipping it and tasting vanilla and whipped cream. As she drinks, and feels a little more alertness slowly seep into her head, Robin nods to the guitar.

Chrom takes the hint, picking the instrument up and giving an admiring sigh as he looks over it. All the paint has been shined up, and the strings practically hum in the air.

"This is… Amazing." He murmurs.

"Want to give it a test?" Robin asks, wiping the last of the whipped cream off her lips. Chrom's answer is to take a seat, and slowly start strumming the strings. Robin picks out the first notes to one of his album songs… And while she wouldn't admit it out loud, one of her favorites.

Chrom pauses, right as the melody begins to take shape, and gives Robin an abashed look.

"…Can you play?" At her blank look, he continues. "It's just… This song needs a good melody to support the main harmony."

In answer, Robin takes one of the display guitars from the shelf. It takes a quick tuning on the strings, before she experimentally strums out a few chords. It's been a while, since she's really sat down to play, instead of just testing strings and sound.

But, while it embarrasses her to admit that… She's still played this song a time or two, trying to figure out what makes the music work. It feels a little different, playing it alongside the person who brought it to her ears for the first time.

Her first notes are hesitant, as she tries to remember the song. Chrom takes notice, and he strums the opening chords on his own guitar, slowing his movements so she can copy him.

"Sorry, it's taking some work…" She trails off as he shakes his head. "This song… It's… Sort of one of my favorites. And I want to do it justice."

"My sister was the one wrote this." He murmurs. "I'm just the one who learned how to play it."

Robin nods, remembering the interviews and press… And noticing how Chrom seems a little bit more relaxed, in her shop. It makes her determined to play a little faster, a little more sure, to show that she appreciates the song. Soon enough, it's Chrom trying to catch up with her, as they work on the music together.

Chrom hums the lyrics, rather than singing them aloud. Which makes sense, given what those lyrics are about; an odd mix of sentimentality, longing, and finally getting to kiss the person in the song. A part of Robin feels heat in her face, over playing such an intimate song like this… But the rest of her loves the complex chords, the rise and fall of the notes twining together, and how each set of notes is its own challenge and reward. It's easy to lose herself in.

Eventually the last of the notes fade, and Chrom gives the guitar an admiring look… And then turns that same admiring look to Robin.

"You… Really know how to fix things up." He says, and she wonders at the shy, half lidded quality to his eyes. He rises, already digging out payment for her… But then he pauses, before handing her a generous roll of bills.

More generous than the job warrants, if Robin is honest with herself. She almost wants to refuse them, but Chrom insistently pushes the payment into her hands.

"There… Is something else, I wanted to ask about." He admits, eyes fixed on the ground. "Y-you don't have to say yes, and I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you into this or anything, but…"

He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Our bass player, Sumia… She had to leave our group, to really focus on being a veterinarian. A-and I hope she makes it! But, we're sort of… Short one player right now. And I was wondering if-"

He glances up, giving her a hopeful look. For her part, Robin wonders if all the band auditions are like this.

"I… I'm not sure if I can pull off the costumes you all wear."

"Cherche can work something out, that matches your style. And… I think we…"

Work well together. Robin can't help but share that conviction; for the first time in a long time, she was focused on just the music, on sinking deep into the song and playing it to the best of her abilities. Maybe that's why she finds herself extending her hand out, to shake on it.

"Well… I've always wondered what it'd be like, to play in a band like this." And she also wonders what it'll be like, if she can make him smile like that every time they practice or play together.


	14. Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the Code Vein fusion AU. Content warnings for the game also apply for this fic.

Chrom wakes up to blood in his mouth, and a strange hunger churning through his body. It all conspires together to parch his throat.

"You awaken." His eyes don't work right, either. They blur in and out, refusing to focus on the bright, silver haired woman hovering over him.

"What…?" He gasps out, barely getting the word out through the dryness clutching his throat and coating his lips. "What… Happened-?"

A hand touches his chest, before his heart can start pounding too hard. Something about the gesture is oddly soothing… And it still a strange sensation, trying to coil up in his chest. It's not altogether pleasant, either; like there's a weird pressure, or something squirming in his heart each time he tries to breathe-

"It's okay…" The figure speaks to him, in a woman's voice. She sounds hushed, oddly subdued. "I'm not certain entirely what happened… But we'll be safe for now. And I promise that I'll keep you safe."

As quiet as her voice is, there's still steel in it; that she'll make sure her words are truth. And confused as he is, there's something familiar to this person. Something comforting. Something that helps him breathe easily, and feel like he's in the company of a friend.

"Ro…Bin." He wheezes, the name coming to his lips. That name also helps focus his eyes. He stares up at her, the white of her hair being the one bright point in a strange, churning hellscape. He pulls himself up into a seated position, taking in the surroundings. Ruined buildings frame the sky and the churning black clouds. Stranger still are the punishing metallic thorns that jam out of the skyscrapers, reaching out and upwards like black and gold fangs.

"Can you stand?" Robin pulls his attention back to the immediate problem; namely, the strange, shuddering that clings to his limbs, and a weakness that seeps from his throat down into the rest of his body. Nevertheless, when Robin asks him, he's still willing to try. Chrom pitches forward from where he sits, onto his hands and knees.

Shards of broken glass litter the streets, offering the faintest ghost of reflections. Through them, he can see a strange red clinging to the edges of his eyes… And a black snarl of lines twisting across his face, like his own skin is made of porcelain, and that cracks are beginning to show across it.

"Easy, Chrom." Robin speaks again. "One step at a time… And then hopefully we can find some shelter."

-o-o-o-

As it turns out, shelter isn't very far at all. Which is a good thing, as Chrom can barely manage more than a few steps. It's mainly the sight of their shelter that keeps him going, that cuts through the fatigue trying to drag him down.

A silver twist of tree curls up from the ruined city, acting like a beacon for him to move forward. He hasn't needed to slump against Robin yet, but she still sticks beside him, until at last they come a rest near the roots-

And something grips him; a sudden flash of madness and nightmare playing across his head. Robin gives a pained noise as well, like she's in the throes of a sudden nightmare; he sees a phantom image, a person that almost looks like her, but with blackened eyes standing over him…

His lips curl back, baring his teeth. He can feel fangs nip at his lips, and something about that vision makes him WANT to lash out. To bite and sink his teeth into the nearest threat, until it stops moving. Robin wheezes beside him, and he can see her bringing her own too-sharp teeth to bare. Seeing them on another person, they look almost like a monster's teeth.

Like they're both somehow less than human.

Chrom bristles, wondering if she's about to turn on him-

Instead, Robin bites into her own palm, drawing droplets of red and letting them dribble along the pale roots of the tree. The smell of blood almost drives Chrom mad, sets his heart to hammering and pulsing, makes something in him scream out for some of his own…

…And he doesn't want to turn on Robin. Chrom instead follows her lead, biting into his own palm, letting his blood spill and stain the ground with specks of scarlet. His hand burns like it's been cut and stuck by a collection of knives. And yet, the taste also does something to him. It slows the madness trying to burn through him, if only for a heartbeat. He tastes iron on his tongue… And then something brushes the top of his head.

His first reaction is a bristle and a flinch, certain that something is about to hook claws into him. The next moment, he feels branches brush against his hair. Their touch is scratchy, but nothing that's going to gore or threaten him.

The touch also draws his eyes up, to see a strange, semi-transparent droplet growing from the tree. Almost like a strange fruit. Chrom feebly reaches up, and plucks the item from the tree. It warms his skin, and even the punctures digging into his palm seem to ease and heal over.

It banishes the roil in his brain and chest. He spots another of the odd beads within reach, and plucks that as well. He quickly holds it out to Robin, murmuring soft words to try and get her attention.

"H-hey. This'll help." Even if he doesn't fully understand why… But Robin at least takes the object, and the frenzy fades from her eyes, leaving them a less vivid red.

Chrom doesn't get to dwell on it for long, before feeling the compulsion to bite again. This time, red floods his mouth, a deluge that drowns out the frenzy that tried to grip him. He just glimpses Robin doing the same, draining the odd bead of all its red, letting none of it go to waste.

"Thank you, Chrom…" She murmurs, wiping a few droplets away, only to hungrily lick her fingers. It's a strange sight… But he also feels strangely comforted, knowing they aren't at risk with whatever madness tried to grip them.

-o-o-o-

He finds a sudden sense of peace, curled against Robin. And she seems to find the same, as she smooths out his hair. They stay nestled against the roots of the tree, letting it be their one solid thing in the midst of so much chaos.

Robin breathes a little easier, after taking that odd bead of blood. She keeps her hands on him, one stroking and petting through his hair, the other touching at his fingers.

"…I don't remember anything." Chrom tells her. "At least, nothing concrete; just weird flashes of images. Vague sensations. All of them painful." He scrunches his face at that. It's almost like he came back from the dead, and whatever killed him still lingers in his chest and tries to make his thoughts feverish.

Though it certainly feels like their surroundings are a match, for whatever turmoil is churning through them. The skies overhead still swirl with dark clouds, lit here and there with sparks of red. It's almost like the world around them is also bleeding. And still, those strange thorns break up the city all around them… Though the more he looks at them, the more Chrom also wonders if they resemble fangs, with veins of gold and violet running them.

Robin follows his gaze, taking in the strange place once again. Now that she's out of the grip of frenzy, he takes in the color of her eyes; they look more like gold, almost an unnerving match for the thorns.

"A-And neither do I…" Robin says at last. "We're a match, for having blanks in our heads. All I know is that I want to keep you safe."

"Same here." Chrom tells her, and finds his hand tightening over hers. Unnerving as the situation is, facing it alone, with something happening to Robin, is even worse. He feels his fingers all tremble, like there's something else waiting right beneath his skin, as his strength slowly flows back into him. "But I feel like I-"

"…Like you're the luckiest Revenant alive?" He freezes; the voice that reaches him is rough. It belongs to someone clad in a mask, standing over him and Robin… And leveling a long bladed bayonet on Chrom's throat. "Sorry to break it to you, buddy… But that's ME. Two new thralls, it must be my lucky day."

The stranger gives a dark chuckle at that, staring at them through large gaunt circular lenses set in his mask; they serve to give him a hungry look.

"You're taking both of them? C'mon, Garrick." Whines another stranger at the man's side. Garrick rounds on him, instantly silencing his lacky.

"Keep your trap shut. I'M the leader here, until Gangrel or Validar haul their sorry, rotting corpses back. And we'll have quite the offering when they do."

-o-o-o-

Chrom gets a mask slammed over his face before he gets a chance to protest, or so much as snarl. He gags against the musty smell and taste of the mask, but the steel surface stays latched over his mouth, almost like a muzzle. And before he can think of fighting, of tapping that wild energy he'd felt… Robin gets seized up as well. Chrom freezes at that, and that moment of shock is all Garrick needs; he makes a curt gesture. One of Garrick's lackeys digs his clawed gloves into Chrom's arms, and locks them behind Chrom's back.

"Time to start marching; I want to get out of here, before the miasma gets worse." Garrick tells them.

They're sent moving into the ruined city, putting the white tree to their backs. Garrick strips the tree of any more of those odd beads; even through the thick glasses of his mask, Chrom can see a greedy glee in his eyes.

And if Chrom is unsteady… The same doesn't go for Robin. She resists every step of the way. But Garrick keeps a tight grip on her, digging his fingers into her hair and twisting his hands against her head. Holding her under his mercy. It banishes that panic Chrom felt, shoots heat into his veins, clouds his vision, and he's almost ready to chew through his mask.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Garrick glances over his shoulder. "Unless you want the miasma to eat you inside out. You'd made a decent enough monster… But it's be a waste of manpower. Lemme get a few days of good work out of you first-"

As he speaks to Chrom, he keeps his eyes off Robin. And so he doesn't notice Robin's hands flashing up, until she has one hand clapped over the fingers on her head, and drives her elbow into his arm. Garrick flinches from the attack with a curse, as Robin struggles in his grip. She whirls when Garrick staggers, letting him yank strands of her hair out, as she claws at his neck.

"You stupid bi-!" Garrick gets the air knocked out of his throat and mouth. His eyes blaze red, and he draws his weapon, ready to drive it down on Robin. "Kill her or break her, I don't care!"

His first lacky gets yanked forward on those orders… And so Chrom doesn't hesitate to pounce on the man, driving him headfirst into the ground. The man's mask shatters on impact, a matching snap goes along his neck, and he goes limp under Chrom.

He should feel sick at that, Chrom thinks. He just snuffed out a man's life as easily as blowing out a candle. Instead, he tightens his fingers on the man's throat, feels the body dissolve away into ash. Chrom lifts his head as the glowing motes swirl about him, and glares up at the remaining targets. His heart thrums, like its feeding off the violence, and pumping a feeling of bloodlust through him.

Maybe this is what Robin feels, and why she's been fighting the entire time.

"Not happening." He snarls at Garrick. And he notices how Garrick is snarling back, showing his teeth… Because in the struggle, Robin has managed to tear his mask free from his face. And as he hyperventilates, a black ripple spreads across Garrick's face.

"You… You damned fools…!" He seethes. "I'll show you what happens when you- whhhhn-" His voice goes raspy. But that doesn't stop him from whirling on Robin, ready to skewer her. Robin has to dance away, losing the element of surprise and unable to fight Garrick with just her hands. Garrick's bayonet lashes about, while his arm pulses and writhes. There's a thick metallic scent in the air, as his arm starts to twist; the muscles swell like pustules, wrapping over the weapon and turning it into a crude claw, almost grafted onto Garrick's limb.

' _You'd make a decent enough monster.'_ He remembers Garrick's taunt… Except now, the words have been turned back on Garrick. He's lost his voice, settling for a roar as he lashes about. Robin keeps needing to dodge back… But she's at least faster than Garrick's other lacky; the man doesn't move fast enough, and gets bisected by Garrick's new claw. More motes of glowing ash swirl about, adding themselves to the miasma.

As he watches, Chrom goes for the dropped weapon from his enemy, and finds a strange blade in the man's grip.

It's not much, but it's enough to go against Garrick. And not a moment too soon, as Garrick lurches forward, and catches Robin with a backhanded strike. He winces from the impact; even if she doesn't take the full force of the blade, Robin still goes flying from the impact, rolling along the shattered ground. She skids past Chrom as she's knocked aside, and that sight throws him forward. He blocks Garrick's next strike with his salvaged blade. The bayonet clashes against the sword, making all the strange components in the weapon rattle; there's vials and vein like engravings all set into the sword. Yet they hold against the strikes, even while Chrom's arms rattle from the hits.

There's a strength behind Garrick's swings that can't be human. But there's also something building up in his own body, that feels like a match for the monster in front of him.

Garrick keeps slashing away, not giving Chrom any room to counter; he can only hold fast against the assault. But a few feet away from the clash, he can just pick out Robin pulling herself back up. She fastens her eyes on Garrick, her hand wrapping around a steel pipe amidst the wreckage. And right as Garrick keeps trying to skewer Chrom, she rushes his blind side… And manages to crack the pipe across Garrick's head.

It should drop him… But Garrick only slumps forward. The red of his eyes seems to burn through his face. And when he lifts his head, the black scar lines take over his face.

"So that's what he meant, about the miasma." Chrom says, holding his ground even as the monster throws itself at him. Claws erupt from Garrick's hands, and his mouth is all shark-like teeth. He brings his twisted hand into the fight as well, lashing at Chrom with his new talons. But as he claws at Chrom, he opens himself up to one counter attack.

And Chrom intends to use that opening; he knows he likely won't get another chance. Strength burns through his arms and heart, driving him onward and giving his sword swing an extra bite.

The claws catch Chrom across his mask, even as he slams the blade through Garrick's chest, and sends the monster reeling back. Robin snaps up, glaring as Garrick's blood splatters across the street.. And beyond her mask, he can see a glow of bloodlust in her eyes… Like she's reacting to Garrick's shed blood.

He can feel a strange haze cover his own thoughts as well. His jaw gives another crackle, wanting to gape wide… And do something about that wasted blood, splattering and staining the street. He and Robin aren't the only things reacting to the bloodshed, either.

All the thorns seem to twitch as her eyes burn, shedding dust and fragments of concrete… And looking almost like teeth, chewing at the air in answer to Robin's glare.

Garrick's twisted face snarls as he strains against the stab wound, trying to bite down at Chrom. With a frenzied howl of her own, Robin throws herself straight into Garrick's throat. She drops her improvised weapon, reaching out with her bare hands-

…Except those hands aren't so bare any longer. Something long and metallic glints across her hands, like she's sprouted strange fangs along her fingers. And they easily plunge into Garrick, going blood red and almost glowing as they drink up his life. Chrom feels a similar burn along his arms, and looks down at his hands. His bloodlust fades for an instant, as he sees the metal coating his own hands. But the next moment, Chrom's shock fades; he moves almost on instinct, his hands biting into Garrick as well. His new artificial claws also drink up Garrick's blood, slacking the strange craving that burns through him.

Together, their combined attack sends the monster staggering back. Straight into the thorns reaching from the buildings.

Garrick's eyes go wide, turning into red gouges set in his face. His mouth opens, as he coughs and hacks up red ichor. Garrick claws at his chest, where the long metallic thorn pierces through his heart. His monstrous form melts away from the bite of the thorns; like they're eating away at his wild side. Almost like fangs of some giant monster.

"Fangs…" Chrom murmurs, the words boiling up in his brain. "The fangs of…"

"…Of Grima." Robin finishes for him. But Garrick can't even manage that, as he turns to ash, the thorns eating even that up.

"That… That takes… Care of him-" Chrom tries to say… But his own breath is starting to wheeze out. His hands go up to his mask, and with a lurch, he realizes that the filters and tubes are completely shredded, leaving him to breathe in the poisoned air.

And he's been breathing it all through the fight. Chrom staggers, falling forward as the world spins around him-

"Chrom? CHROM!" He can faintly hear Robin, as his limbs start to shiver. How long, he wonders, before he starts to twist up like Garrick. But that feverish thought is cut short, when a pair of hands grab his face and force it up.

"You won't die. You won't become Lost. **Because I won't allow it.** " Robin's voice echoes with power, piercing even the haze and pain cloaking his body and brain. Her hand cups his face, almost gentle at first… Until she pushes her palm against his mouth, and slices it open against the edges of his fangs.

Chrom gives a startled gasp at that… And at how the haze seems to evaporate in his mind. His body stops trembling as well, the transformations fading away beneath his flesh.

"Wh… What did you just do?" He stares up at Robin, but she only gives a relieved sigh.

"I… I never felt any pain from miasma, even as we walked to the tree." She tells him. "So I thought, perhaps I could share that affinity with you."

Chrom can only nod, hands going up to his face and feeling the ashen marks fading away from his face.

"A-at least you're alive." Robin finishes. "And I think…" She lifts her head, to the ruins, and a strange cathedral structure beyond the broken buildings. "We might be able to find help, out over there. If you think you can make it?"

There's something about that structure that teases at his memories… And even suggests another name. This time, it's the word 'Shepherds.' And it doesn't fill him with the same dread as 'Grima.' It helps to banish the lingering dread and terror from the sudden battle.

"If it gets us answers, and keeps you alive… Then yes." Chrom tells her. He feels a little broken, a little torn and pulled through the wringer… But still ready to stand and walk alongside Robin.

"You're not the only one who wants to keep her partner safe." He tells Robin. "We… Are partners, right?"

"After how much we just fought for the other, I hope so." Robin tells him. And a part of him is glad he's lost the mask, since he can smile at her now. Robin tightens her grip around him, gently pulling Chrom forward, helping him outpace the scent of blood in the air. With a swallow, he's able to banish some of the metallic taste in his throat, and he doesn't feel that parched quality in his mouth any longer.

It's enough for now, Chrom tells himself. That however mad and bloodthirsty the world might be, he doesn't have to face it alone. And his companion doesn't seem to mind the fangs in his smile.


	15. Role Reversal

The stranger makes for a pitiful sight, laying crumbled amongst the desert sands. It's enough to halt Robin in her tracks, and send her vaulting off her pegasus. The stranger gives a weak stir as the wings of her pegasus trace over his face, interrupting the moonlight and drawing shadows across his skin. His eyes crack open, and Robin pauses for a moment, over how vividly blue they are.

"The desert isn't the best place to be taking a nap." She tells him, throwing her cape back over her shoulders from where the landing knocked it astray. The stranger blinks at her, looking dazed and confused. And she can't very well leave him alone in the sands; even with the light and heat going wane, she doubts they're very comfortable. So Robin extends her hand to him. He looks at her from beneath the cowl of his hood for only a moment, before accepting it.

"Th-thanks, Robin." He says as he takes her hand. Robin's eyes widen at that, and how he knows her name. And that means he has to know who she is-

At last, that's what she thinks, until Chrom glances down at her hand, and the violet brand emblazoned on it. He looks at her mark for a moment… But there's no recognition in his eyes. No widening, no awe or fear… Just a curious look, as he regards the six eyed mark.

"You know my name… But you don't know my mark?" He frowns at that, shaking his head.

"I-I'm honestly still working on figuring out just who you are. I just… Know your name. And that I can-" He goes redder than a sunburn. "…That I can trust you."

Robin pauses with pulling him up, and settles instead for giving him a surprised blink.

"You… Trust me?" Fear and respect she is well used to… But not so much trust. "Well, thank you…?"

The stranger brushes at his hood as he speaks, showing a shock of blue hair underneath the heavy cowl.

"Ch-Chrom. My name is Chrom." He tells her, and Robin almost drops his hand from shock. He might not know much… But she recognizes the name.

' _The Prince of Ylisse.'_ The stitching on one side of his robe has come undone, the popped seam showing his bare shoulder and a familiar brand; one that her father has insisted she learn the details of, and learn to hate it on sight. Yet now that she sees him in person, all her mind can manage is confusion.

"I know that much at least." Chrom tells her, but there's still no recognition in his eyes. No realization of how ground shaking his identity is. "A-and sorry but… Where is this exactly? Beyond being a desert?"

"You… Don't know where you are, or how you got here? This is Plegia."

Chrom frowns at that. Like he just barely recognizes the name, and the silvery sand dunes around them.

"I… Don't really know." He finally admits, dipping his head and almost tensing in shame. "I don't remember… Much of anything. Outside of your name."

Robin wants to press him for more… But the rustling of feathers overhead cuts her off. She and Chrom look up at the same time, to see black winged pegasi winging around them. Feathered wings obscure the moonlight, as her escort comes into land.

-o-o-o-

Chrom stares at the riders, all gathering in a ring around him and Robin; some circle overhead unnervingly like vultures, while others stand as sentinels facing inwards. There seems to be recognition in their expressions, like they know who he is… Even if Chrom himself isn't very sure of who he is.

What he IS sure about, is that he doesn't care for those venomous glares he's getting. Robin puts herself in front of him, trying to shield him from the harsh, hateful looks. One of the riders swings off the saddle of her black pegasus, her white hair tangling in the night breeze, and she smooths out her shadowy clothing.

"…Prince Chrom." She says. And he goes slack from the title. He certainly doesn't FEEL like a prince, laying confused on the sands. And his paralysis makes it easy for the pegasus and wyvern riders to surge forward and clap binds around him.

"Aversa! S-stop!" If he's still stunned, then Robin finds her breath, and the ability to object. The leader of the riders shakes her head.

"It's not very often that we find a sworn enemy on our doorstep. And it's not our call to decide what to do with him." At Chrom's bewildered blink, she continues. "…That decision belongs to Validar. And he'll have some interesting reactions to YOU. Considering what your father did to us."

She turns her ire to Chrom, and any measured quality to her words drops away.

He wants to ask more, but the hard light in Aversa's eyes snuffs out his curiosity. Instead he gets thrown into the saddle of a wyvern, driving breath and consciousness out of him…

…Until at last, they reach a palace. One built from the bones of ancient creatures, crowned by a massive skull that looks as though it could swallow the moon. The sight of it freezes Chrom. As does the figure in regal dark robes, stepping from the shadow of castle and bones. The man cuts a sharp, commanding figure as he glares at Chrom… And he gets the feeling he's looking at Validar. And that this man is the leader of this nation.

"Naga's scion…" Validar hisses out, narrowing his eyes. And Chrom in turn tries to speak… But there's still a fatigue clinging to him, clouding his thoughts. There's still blanks in his head, and Validar seems determined to fill those spaces up with his own bile. "To think, after years of war, you show up on my own doorstep. To complete my dominion…" The glare fades out. But Chrom doesn't much care for the sharp edged grin that takes its place. "I couldn't ask for a more pleasant surprise."

-o-o-o-

She watches them take Chrom away, a few more chains added onto him, and to make him further slump.

"You surprise me, daughter. Pleasantly so." Validar tells her.

Somehow, her father's praise rings hollow in Robin's ears. When Validar gives her a proud and feral smile, that dims compared to the shock and look of loss on Chrom's face. She can only turn her back on the entire affair, knowing that her father's welcome won't be very gentle on the lost prince.

"…Robin!" Validar still snaps at her, trying to hold her in place.

"I… I apologize. I feel a fatigue coming over me." Is all she tells him, before staggering off. She goes to the throne room, letting the sweeping arches of the palace close over her. But even if she can outpace her father's speeches, she still can't leave her own thoughts behind.

' _What happens, when Naga's Scion is killed? Does that mean Grima will be ascendant? And you…'_ She looks to the mark on her hand… And feels her stomach twist.

In time, rumors filter their way into the swirling court and aristocracy gathered there; that Validar intends to kill his new captive on the morrow, as a sacrifice to Grima. So many in the castle track down Robin, giving her praise for finding the scion, congratulating her for her upcoming ascendance… And all of it pushes that sick feeling further into Robin's throat and stomach.

It makes her retreat deeper into the halls… But even then, she can't seem to escape the company of others. Robin all but jumps when a shadow detaches from one of the pillars, and walks towards her.

The stranger doesn't have the look of a Plegian soldier or courtier. But there's an odd echo of Robin's own lordly clothing in the figure's appearance… Though Robin has never needed to wear such an elaborate mask over her face.

"Robin." The figure says, forgoing titles and formalities like all the others. "Are you going to leave him to such a fate?"

'… _This is a first.'_ The detached part of Robin notes; to be questioned, rather than put up on a pedestal. Maybe that's why she gapes at the stranger instead of raising an alarm, or demanding the figure's identity.

"…You're not Plegian." Robin says, knowing that's an obvious statement. "Should I be worried?"

"I… I hope not." Says the stranger, hesitating for a moment, a softness taking the edge of their voice. "But you didn't answer my question. Are you really going to leave him to rot in a dungeon, and die?"

It's unnerving how this stranger echoes the thoughts going on her own head.

"I think… I think you know that standing idle and doing nothing is wrong." Now the stranger switches to a softer voice, and only watches Robin through the corners of their mask, as they look around the castle. "I also think this is… The wrong place, for both of you."

Bold words, Robin thinks, as she stares at the stranger.

"And I know he'll see daylight again. But… If you don't find it in your heart to free him, I will." The stranger tells Robin, and she can feel the gaze behind that mask; both imploring, and authoritative. The candles along the wall burn a little brighter… And she can pick out faint glints of blue in the stranger's hair. It all reminds her of the prince locked away. And it also reminds her of how she'd felt, when she spoke with him.

' _You don't want to see him die.'_ Her thoughts provide. She doesn't say anything more to the stranger… But the resolute look her face, and the way she wheels around and marches towards the dungeons likely says enough.

-o-o-o-

Chrom doesn't seem to understand just what's going on, when she approaches his cell. Even when she melts the links of his chains with bolts of lightning, he can still only stare at Robin. He remains startled and silent as she rushes him out of the castle, sneaking along the shadows of the halls, and spending more than a little time pressed tight together. When they finally flee, Robin finds herself compelled to speak, to help fill the silence. To try and explain a little of the madness to Chrom.

"You're of Ylisse. You HAVE to be." She tells him, snapping the reins of her pegasus. "That's the nation opposite of Plegia. Or at least… What's left of it."

"Wh… Why? What happened?"

"War. One driven by zealous fervor without quarter given on either side." She looks over her shoulder and watches his expression carefully; first blank, then scrunching up as worry dawns on him. "…Ylisse was all but wiped out. Her soldiers are scattered, her great cities broken, her leadership… Thought to be dead. But that clearly isn't the case."

Chrom slumps against her, all of his energy drained just like that.

She wonders what it's like to discover one has no home to return to.

"Plegia… I remember someone… Telling me once. That Plegia is home to a dark dragon." Chrom forces himself to speak, to grasp onto something.

"…Grima." Robin finishes. "Opposite of Ylisse's divine protector, Naga. Though both dragons sleep now, try as Plegia does to rouse theirs." Her hand balls into a fist… And she finds herself urging the pegasus onwards and faster. Further away from the dark kingdom, and out into the endless dunes.

Out there, there's no doomsday cult. No priests and soldiers shouting praises and expectations. Just miles of open sky… And perhaps, if she travels far enough, another kingdom.

-o-o-o-

They find more than broken buildings, as they flee across the desert. There's still sparks of resistance gathering in the fields of Ylisse, beyond the eyes of the Plegian garrison.

Though their first encounter with the Ylisseans isn't the best. Even if they don't recognize her as Plegia's princess, the violet of her garb is still enough to mark her as an enemy. And the long cape swirling around her shoulders still shows her rank, as someone important to Plegia.

A prize to either capture or eliminate.

She's never fought a true battle before. Skirmishes and practices yes… And once on her 18th year, she was permitted into a tourney fought under the shadow of dragon bones. But never a true battle, where the stakes are living and a red stained demise. When she first hears the war cries, the howls for her blood… She freezes.

But even as she's paralyzed, her eyes take in the battle field; the rolling hills and thick grasses, and the old ruined church and bell tower crowning the field. A good place to make a stand; she sends her pegasus flying towards it, while Chrom clings onto her.

"I-I have a hunch this isn't how people are normally welcomed in Ylisse." Chrom tells her, as the pegasus alights on the roof.

"I don't know, I'd say this tracks with everything my father told me." Robin grumbles, going for her spell book, and tossing an old sword and scabbard to Chrom; an old artifact that she looted from the dungeons. It had the look of a Ylissean blade, something that could have belonged to the lost prince.

She just doesn't anticipate having to use it against Ylisseans.

Chrom throws back the cowl of his navy hood with one hand, drawing the blade with the other. His feet slide down the roof, taking him closer to the troops…

…Only to have their cries dimmed.

One of the soldiers throws her hand out, her blonde hair snapping from the motion. And her eyes stay fixed on Chrom. There's something about that look makes Robin drop her book, and Chrom sheath the blade.

"Oh gods… It's you! You made it back you… You…" The girl is babbling now, staggering towards Chrom. "You absolute DOLT!"

And confused as she is by this new welcome, Robin is thankful that there won't be any bloodshed.

-o-o-o-

That lack of bloodshed stretches out across days and then weeks. Chrom struggles to remember his countrymen… And kin in the case of the leader of the band, Lissa. And as the time stretches by, that band grows.

More scattered soldiers slowly join their ranks. And Chrom manages to keep them all from venting their ire on Robin. And every time they meet another Ylissean, he tells them the same thing; that he's only alive because of her.

It… Oddly warms her heart, when she hears that.

Sometimes she sees flickers of the masked figure; it happens more and more frequently, after the first border clash with the Plegians happens. That had been the lowest point in Robin's life; seeing the dismay and confusion on the faces of her countrymen, when they saw her amongst the ranks of the resistance.

But she can't forget their own war cries; their screams to crush any rebellion, to offer their heart's blood up to Grima (and how the mark on her hand burned at that) and… How enraged they were, when they saw Chrom. He's taken to wearing his hood down, showing his face to the world; maybe in the hopes that the wane sunlight will rattle something loose in his head. But it also drives a madness into the Plegian forces; knowing that the lost prince has slipped from their grasp once, and ready to do anything to put him back under Validar's control.

' _And put YOU back under his hold.'_ That thought drives her to fight, no matter how her stomach may turn at the notion. And as Robin quickly discovers, she has an aptitude for spells; and to see the way a battle might flow. Chrom seems to share that odd intuition, with how he's always wherever he needs to be on the battlefield. The same as the blue haired stranger, always showing up wherever she needs to be when a battle is almost lost.

It all gives Robin the strength to keep fighting on.

And as a consequence, with their days filled with either meeting remnants of the resistance, or clashing with Plegia… It's easy enough for her to collapse and sleep, as the sun goes down.

One night she wakes from strange dreams; dreams of walking through unfamiliar castles and somehow feeling at home among their alabaster and marble halls.

It takes a moment of laying in place, to figure out what had awakened her. Gradually she realizes where they are; back in the ruined church, their rough base of operations. Space is at a premium in the old building, making them all bunk close together.

Across the floor from her, Chrom tosses and turns in his sleep, giving a strange sobbing noise. Hearing it, Robin moves on reflex. Her hands touch his shoulders, right as his eyes fly open and he stares at her.

"I-I'm sorry…" He wheezes, but his eyes are still oddly cloudy and sleep fogged. His nightmares still cling to him, and it takes Chrom a moment to blink them away.

"Robin… Oh thank the gods." He falls back, breath shuddering in and out.

"You were having a nightmare." She tells him, and finds herself smoothing out his hair and bangs.

"Gods…" Chrom whispers out. "I hope that never happens to me again." He stares at her face, like he needs to make certain she's alright.

"What… Exactly did you dream about?" Robin finds herself asking.

"You were right, that it was a nightmare. I… In my dreams, I kill-" he can't even finish the words, glancing away with a shiver. There's an odd cold feeling settling in Robin's stomach at that.

"…Maybe that's your mind, reminding you of what you SHOULD be doing." She hates herself for saying that. Hates the wounded look on his face even more; he hesitates as though he was just struck.

"What… What are you talking about?" Chrom whispers. "I-I could never…"

"Chrom… We're meant to be enemies." Robin brings her hand up, feeling her skin burn as she does so.

"You might not remember. But that brand on your arm marks you as the scion, the chosen of Naga."

"The… The divine dragon." Chrom murmurs, showing that he remembers that much.

"And… Don't you remember what this means?" She's never hated having to show her brand. Or felt like it was something to be ashamed of. But lately the mark has felt more and more like a blemish; as she spends more time in Ylisse, she's found herself wearing gloves, hiding the mark. She's been afraid of the reactions of the Ylisseans; that they'd see her as an abomination, if they knew what else she was.

Yet there isn't any disgust on Chrom's features. Instead Chrom puts his hand gently over hers, closing his fingers over the mark.

"…Do we… Need to be enemies, though?" He whispers. "Because when I saw you for the first time, I didn't feel any hate, or disgust or… Anything like that. I just felt like I could trust you."

His thumbs linger over her hand for a moment, like he's trying to press and ease the words into her.

"I… I still DO. Even with everything that's happened. Or maybe… ESPECIALLY with everything that's happened."

She wants to protest that; there's plenty of reasons why he shouldn't trust her. And yet, she also remembers the risks she's taken for him; spiriting him out of Plegia, into Ylisse, and staying at his side all through the conflict.

And now, she finds it almost impossible to move away from him.

-o-o-o-

Their forces slowly grow in number. And to Robin's shock, there's more than a few Plegians willing to join their ranks as well, dissatisfied with the way Validar preaches blood and doom.

That alone comes as a shock to her. But what makes her wonder even more, is how many look to her for guidance. Chrom makes for a good scholar, eager to read and learn all the things he's forgotten; he can motivate the troops as well, act as a rally point for the resistance.

And yet when the time comes to lead the charge, he looks to her. And over time, more of the others look to him as well.

A part of her thought she'd escaped the expectations, when she fled to Ylisse. But… There isn't fanaticism in the eyes of those who look to her. And they always seem focused on HER, rather than her mark. And it's strangely invigorating, to have people trust her.

And sometimes speak to her.

Robin gets another brush with that one evening, when Lissa approaches her. And even with all the battles she's faced, Robin still gets a little nervous when the leader of the resistance sits down next to her.

"Take it easy." Lissa tells Robin, and even favors her with a cheeky grin as she takes a seat beside her. Lissa tends to the campfire, watching the sparks drift up into the night air.

"I just wanted to ask you about my brother…" Her voice hitches at that. And Robin bows her head; it has to eat away at the girl, that Chrom's memories stay stubbornly out of reach. He's always kind enough, whenever Robin sees them together; even offering Lissa a share of his rations whenever they stumble across sweets. "I… I never really thanked you, for bringing him back."

Robin gives a faint mumble, trying to brush off the gratitude. She still feels a bit like a liar, hiding among the company of the Ylisseans.

"You know…" Lissa murmurs. "I… Do think there's something familiar about you." She looks Robin straight in the eye as she speaks. "Before our father got a case of the crazy, I sometimes heard about a princess in Plegia. And she sounded a LOT like you; smart, observant, elegant-"

"Th-that's the first time I've heard a Ylissean call me that. I always though 'corrupt' was their favorite word." She tenses as she speaks, waiting for Lissa to raise the alarm, or to narrow her eyes and spit on her disgust.

"…Maybe." Lissa allows, her voice staying low. "But I… My sister always warned me about thinking like that. She said that wouldn't bring my brother back… And it turns out she was right. The point is… I won't throw out your secret to the others. You can stay with us as long as you like… And until my brother finally gets his head on straight, on what to do about his feelings."

Robin tries to blame the sudden rush of heat to her face on the fire.

"What… Exactly do you mean?" Lissa loses her somber look, favoring Robin with a grin.

"Oh, just that I know how to use my eyes."

-o-o-o-

It's only when they cast Plegia out completely, and take care of the Plegian general Gangrel, that Chrom finds the courage to speak with her. And much as she hates to admit it, the same is true for Robin. It takes time to figure out why she feels so loyal to him. Why the idea of going back to Plegia always leaves her cold-

"You… Know you don't have to leave." He tells her, on the second night of their victory celebration.

"I'm not certain there's a place for Plegian, among the royal court." She forces herself to say.

"I… I think there might be." Chrom murmurs to her, daring to take a step closer. He reaches for her hand, but hesitates halfway. Robin finds herself bridging that gap, plucking up his hand and holding it tight. That seems to coax him to continue. "Perhaps… If you were to be at my side?"

It's not the sort of confession she ever imagined hearing. But Robin wouldn't take the more formal courtship over this moment, as she throws her arms around him.

-o-o-o-

Seasons turn as Ylisse is repaired. As the broken buildings turn to patchwork shelters, and then to homes. What surprises Chrom is how much this place FEELS like home… Even if he doesn't remember all the details, like he wishes.

He traces his hands along the sleeves of his robe, considering. The dark blue and silver, Lissa tells him, is an echo of Naga's colors and that of the first Exalt. That might be why he frequently wears the robe, like it's a comforting blanket in the midst of so many changes…

…Though there IS one more comforting, steady presence in his life. One that never left him, since she first found him in the desert. And as the seasons fly by, she seems content to set roots down in Ylisse, and grow.

And eventually, that growth turns towards Chrom. And slowly turns into a family.

He thinks that they might have a chance to build something… Until another war brews on the horizon.

And then the girl from the future shows her face again, and sends everything crashing down on Chrom's ears.

-o-o-o-

Her name is 'Lucina.' The same as his young daughter. And she brings together the broken pieces of Chrom's memory.

And a part of him wishes he'd stayed in ignorance; that he doesn't know why he lashes against his wife, when she almost turns into the avatar of Grima. That he's as much an avatar for Naga, and when the dragon first tried to manifest, she wiped Chrom's memory.

He still sobs after the ceremony, and the battle against Validar. Even with Plegia's mad priest dead, even with Robin pulling through at the last minute… He feels like an abomination. And he's supposed to be the conduit of a holy dragon.

"Chrom… It's not your fault." Robin tells him at the end of the battle, even as a twisted dragon writhes across the sky. It's too similar to what she said, when he drove the blade into her side… Only to turn the blade at the last moment, grazing it along her ribs.

"And… We'll find a way to make it right." She whispers to him. A fell dragon may be unleased on the world, but he still finds himself nodding. And knowing that he'll do anything to make it up to his other half.

Even if he has to channel Naga's will to do so. No matter what it might do to him.

-o-o-o-

Naga's power demands much, Robin thinks, watching Chrom fade around the edges; to channel so much power, it's small wonder that mortal flesh can't last long against it. But that doesn't keep her from clutching at him, trying desperately to keep him solid instead of turning ethereal.

And while a part of her knows this is the only way it could have ended, the only way to restore balance… She still has tears burning in her eyes and scouring her cheeks, as she desperately sobs her husband's name. Again and again, as though that can keep him here-

She only stills, when something soft presses against her head. Chrom is just solid enough to give her a gentle kiss, and raise her face. With a jolt, she realizes he's crying as well.

"Love…" He whispers. "Please don't cry; you're not beholden to any dragon any longer. Our kingdoms are at peace, and…"

Just like that, he flickers out. Leaving her grasping empty air, and feeling a faint, promised whisper on the breeze.

' _And I'll come back to you.'_


	16. Treasure Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also doubles as the Dungeons and Dragons AU I never knew I needed, but certainly want now.

Chrom would never admit it out loud… But he does have a certain affinity for collecting 'shinies.' At least, that's what his sisters always jokingly call them, whenever he brings his findings back to the guild. But since it always brings a smile to their faces, and keeps the Ylissean Guild well financed and afloat, Chrom's fine with the odd names Lissa comes up with.

' _Wonder what they'll think of this one… If I manage to find it.'_ He regards the ruins at that thought. This place might have once been a castle, tomb, or an altar; the architecture can never seem to make up its mind. In one hall are vaulted ceilings, reminiscent of the grand old cathedrals where he learned his prayers and later invocations. Off in one room is an armory full of old rusted weapons, poor choices compared to his own blade. And connecting all these disparate parts are long, foreboding hallways, illuminated only by the light of his torch.

Chrom carefully picks his way along the ruined, tomb-like floors. He digs out a handful of stones from his pocket, and then scatters them along the floor tiles up ahead-

And watches as the hall before him gets shot, crushed, and otherwise mangled, as a collection of traps all go off at once. Chrom holds his breath for a moment… Until finally one last arrow spits out of a hole in the walls, and falls woefully short thanks to its fletchings being crushed, and the shaft splintered.

"…Guess it's a lucky thing this place is so old; the mechanisms for the traps are all frayed, and ready to go off at anything." Says a sudden voice in his ear. It sends him scrambling to the side, flailing with his arms and ready to fight off a monster. And when he catches sight of the speaker, he's half convinced he's come face to face with a demon; there's a slight violet tinge to the stranger's skin, the impression of horns growing from her head, and even a long tail flicking between booted feet.

' _Tiefling!'_ His thoughts blare in panic.

He barely notices that he's blundering close to the traps… Until a hand snaps over his chest belt and yanks him forward, a split second before another volley of arrows goes off.

Chrom stares from the hand, up to a woman's face. She's frowning at him, and there's a slight widening of her black and red eyes to show how startled she is.

"Guess those traps aren't the only thing on a hair trigger." She tells him.

"I-I thought you were a monster." He tells her… And instantly regrets his words. How many times does a tiefling have to hear that accusation, he wonders? He remembers the lecture he got from Emmeryn, the first time he made that mistake; that the creatures aren't necessarily evil, just like humans aren't automatically good or trustworthy. "I-I mean… This isn't exactly a place I expect to meet new people."

"Likewise!" She shoots back, the sharp humor covering any hurt that crosses her face. "Though I hope you've figured out I'm NOT a monster."

He takes her in; the cut of her coat and its colors make her almost blend into the old tomb, save for her silvery hair.

"R-right. You're certainly too-" he claps a hand over his mouth, before he can say something stupid. But he wonders if 'striking' is spoken anyway, judging by how the stranger gives him a sharp look.

' _Maybe I should take a short walk down that hallway and trip some of the remaining traps. Save myself a lot of pain and embarrassment.'_ He starts to think. But that thought fades away when the stranger gives him a nervous smile.

It makes him wonder, just how many harsh responses she's gotten, that his own awkward bumbling seems friendly.

"W-Well… The point is, I get that you're not here to kill me. Though… I'm guessing we're both after the same treasure." Chrom tells her. The torch he has is burning low, and he can't quite pick out the guild mark on her. But at the very least, she seems friendly. And not at all willing to have him blunder into traps.

"True… But I'm ready to declare a truce, up until we find the thing." She pauses, giving Chrom a cautious, sidelong glance. Her hands release his clothing, giving her room to step back and putted a guarded expression over her face. "Provided you can trust me."

"I…" A part of him hesitates. The part that can't so easily shed the stories of infernal legacies, and deals with monstrous creatures. But the rest of him remembers that if she wanted him dead, she had ample opportunity. "I… Can accept that."

And if he's going to offer her trust, he should probably give a name as well.

"I'm Chrom, by the by." The tiefling hesitates at that, giving him a surprised look.

"…Robin." She tells him. "And truce accepted."

-o-o-o-

He's glad for the truce; because it turns out Robin has a knack for exploring dungeons, and picking out traps. Her keen sight is a lot more reliable than just throwing rocks down hallways, and hoping they'll trip anything… Especially when they start working their way around trap floors; he can just pick out the stench of acid or brimstone boiling up from cracks in the ground, and has no desire to get a closer look.

When he voices his thoughts out loud, Robin snorts… And then coughs on some of the dust. It takes a moment of wheezing before she can gather her words and breath.

In the process, she leans against one of the walls. Chrom tenses a little at that, before reminding himself of Robin's keen eyes. If she's resting against it, then there likely aren't any traps. What there IS, however, is a collection of odd runes scoured into the stone; he sees that much when he brings the torch closer.

Robin lifts her eyes to the runes as well, and murmurs something under her breath.

"Can you read these things?" Chrom asks. When Robin nods, there seems to be some reluctance to her motions.

"My father taught me…" She trails off again, and finishes reading the inscription. "Roughly translated, it lists magic formulas in parts, before…" She brushes a hand over a set of engravings that seem almost violently gouged into the stone, overwriting the older script. "Before saying 'Do not disturb my work, lest you seek to join my ranks.' At least we're getting a better idea of what it is we're dealing with." Robin tells him, tracing her hands over the old carvings. "And it looks like the rumors about this place were right. This has to be the one of the labs of Alchemist-Mage Forneus."

"Don't say that name too loudly." Chrom cautions her, fighting down a shudder of his own. Unease seems to cling to Robin as well.

"…Good point. There's no telling what other sorts of arcane protections he might have. Or if his name could activate the-"

Robin cuts off, as a glimmer of something white skates across the floor.

"Looks like you were right about that much." Robin mutters, wincing as her eyes pick something out in the gloom. When Chrom tries to look, he catches sight of things gliding and twisting across the floor, and gleaming almost like bone. Most unnerving, is that there's no sound accompanying those flickering movements-

Robin gives a soft murmur, and the light of his torch blazes up, coating the surroundings with an odd purple tinge. In the expanded light, he can see a strange, snake like creatures slithering towards them… If those snakes were made entirely of bone and affixed with a human skull.

"…Definitely the work of the Alchemist-Mage." He faintly hears Robin speak, while he watches the things. "We've got some fighting to do, because I think there's more than a few bone golems to get through."

Chrom tries to talk… But there's something to the creatures movements that halts his words. There's a strange macabre grace to the patterns they twist in. Something that demands his attention, even as his eyes glaze over-

He's vaguely aware of the torch getting pried out of his grip, followed by an explosion of violet flames eating into the bone serpents. Robin swings her improvised torch about, and he can hear a strange incantation filter through the fog in his head.

The wash of violet flames seem to spread out as Robin sweeps her hands out, the fire following her motions, and making the serpents crackle and twist in the flames. In the same moment, the paralysis coating Chrom seems to snap away; it makes him snap out in turn, drawing his sword in one clean motion and slicing into the monsters.

Some of the haze seems to linger in his mind, with how much of a blur the battle is. And somewhere along the way, he feels a puncture in his neck, followed by a drop to the floor…

…Only for awareness to slowly seep back into him, as he finds himself in a different room. There's no trace of the golems, save for a lingering pain in his neck.

"…Okay, good." Robin breathes out, and he faintly realizes she's kneeling over him. "You're not dead after all."

"Wh… What…?" Chrom whispers, as Robin pulls back from him. She also wraps her hands around his shoulders, tugging him up in the process.

"One of those necrophidius scored a bite on you. But only after you tore through one of them, and wounded another. Which… I owe you some thanks for. I would've burned through all my spells, otherwise."

"Glad to know I wasn't completely useless." Chrom rolls his shoulders, trying to ease out the pain in his neck. He looks around as well, taking in the new location. The place is a dome like room, barren save for the torch and kindling burning in the center.

"I'm guessing this was an old lab, or ritual chamber. Some place that the monsters avoid. But that also means no rush with resting up. I need to recharge as well." Robin tells him, glancing around the chamber. "And I searched this place for traps, and it looks pretty safe. We can catch our breath here."

He gives a quick nod, easing his way back down to the blankets. Gradually, the last of the poison seems to drain out of him… Though as he waits, Chrom finds the silence and stillness of the room weighs down on him.

"So… Is it okay to ask why you're here?" He finds himself asking, desperate for conversation. Robin hasn't lost her cautious nature… But it seems like she's also tired of hearing only the crackle of their fire, as she gives a hesitant nod.

"If you'll give me your reasons as well." She tells him. "And… The truth is, I've heard about this place, from my… Guild." His eyebrows quirk up at that; it makes him wonder if she's still working for a guild or not. Even with the brighter firelight, Chrom still can't pick out any guild symbol or crest on her clothing. His shoulder twitches, making him wonder if she's opted for a mark on her skin instead.

"I need some resources now, and I'm hoping the treasure of this place can give me that… And maybe learn a little more about the archmage." Chrom gives her a worried look at that. And as he watches her, he wonders at her appearance; she already has a spark back to her eyes, and her skin seems to glow with power.

' _She gains strength faster than most wizards or sorcerers… Even Miriel can't recharge that quickly.'_

"Why would you want to study such a mage? Especially after we've seen his handiwork…" Handiwork that reminds him of Robin's spell work, for some reason. Slowly, the ideas click together with him; why she's recharged so quickly, the strange violet energy clinging to her spells… And, if he thinks back, an odd, almost eldritch ringing in his ears.

"…Robin." He asks, tensing away from her. "…Exactly how did you acquire your magic?"

"…Pacts." It's just one word, but it seems particularly bitter when it leaves her mouth. As his eyes narrow, she bristles a little. "Chrom, I'm a spell user. And not all of us can rely on divine favor, considering our… Backgrounds. Do you think a divine dragon would want to treat with me? After what my father asked of me-?"

She seems to regret says that, with how she cuts off.

"What did he…?"

"…Let's just say that I swore to pacts, because I desperately wanted to please him, and didn't know any better." Robin doesn't meet his eyes any longer. "So. Do you want to pass some judgement on me, and start smiting me down?"

"I… Nothing like that." Chrom says, ducking his head, and feeling shame color his cheeks. He's glad Emmeryn was too busy to sign up for this mission, given the scolding she'd likely heap on him.

' _Even if she IS a warlock… She saved your neck.'_

"I guess I owe you a story of my own, instead." He tells her. And in turn, finds himself explaining the background of his guild. How it was founded by him, his sisters, and their retainers. And while it isn't the safest line of work, it's also the best way to acquire gold, to keep their small army of a guild going.

"It… Certainly seems like you look out for each other." Robin says, sounding mystified by the concept. And he desperately wants to press the matter, to figure out just what happened to her, in her family and guild… But he also knows he's pushed her enough as is.

"Y-yeah. Though I guess I could do a better job with looking out for other people." Robin hesitates at that, raising her head to look at Chrom. This time he looks her straight in the eyes. "What I'm trying to say is… Sorry. About being so quick to jump to conclusions about you. I'll try to do better, as long as our truce lasts."

-o-o-o-

Eventually, they gather their strength up, and leave the campsite behind. Their steps echo down the halls and Chrom picks out more elaborate, almost draconic carvings lining the passages. As they pick their way along, Robin can't seem to decide how closely she should walk to him. Her trap tripping gets a little more rough as well, and leaves her choking on dust after a ceiling almost crash lands on them.

"Y-you know, your methods weren't bad at all. In a place this old and frayed, trying to trip things ahead of time isn't a bad idea. Less sneezing that way as well." She tells him. "You had the right idea-"

She's busy wiping the dust from her eyes, not noticing how Chrom hurries ahead… Until something in the dungeon gives a low hissing noise. Chrom freezes in place, readying his blade and this time letting divine power crackle along the sword.

"…So you ARE a paladin." Robin has enough time to murmur, before something wrenches its way out of the branch in the halls. Chrom's stomach sinks at the sight; at first he thinks it might be a sphere, or some odd milky colored wisp. Then he realizes he's staring into a single, giant eye, set in a fleshy mass that is half decayed. A broken jaw filled with serrated teeth hangs beneath that milky eye, looking half broken.

"Beholder-!?" Robin hisses that out, scrambling back. The eye snaps to her, but doesn't focus right. That's when Chrom realizes that they're facing against the corpse of a monster, animated by magic that doesn't care about preserving the creature; just keeping it lethal in case adventurers stumble across it.

"R-revenant!" He screams, remembering Emm's lessons and Lissa's ghost stories. "Eye revenant!"

The monster lacks speech; its tongue and mind are so rotted away that it can only give a strange, guttural hiss.

Chrom throws himself forward, his blade glowing in the dim light. Robin however steps back, raising her hands and giving a soft murmur; this time his senses are a little clearer, and he recognizes it as a cross between a prayer and an incantation… Though it's not something Chrom recognizes.

He DOES however, recognize that sudden spike of temperature in the hallway, and throws himself beneath the monster. He barely manages to duck under the creature, skidding and leaving skin along the tiles. The light along his sword flickers as the monster tries to turn on him… But that's when Robin's fire spell takes effect. Flames explode up from the floor, searing at the rotting flesh and singeing some of the remaining eyestalks.

' _Not bad-'_ Chrom has time to think, before the monster turns its glare on Robin. The flames she summoned snuff out, before the monster spins again eyestalks whipping about, and Robin herself collapses to the floor with a sharp gasp. Blood splatters the bricks as she falls, and Chrom remembers the other warnings; a glare that can cancel magic, or tear open wounds. And damaged as the eyes are by death and rot, some of the abilities are still potent.

And now the monster is trying to face him, hovering and spinning in the air. Chrom tries to bring the blade against the monster, praying that the holy energies flickering along the sword will still be enough-

But something keeps him held fast to the ground. Chrom glances around, startled… And sees long, boney fingers clawing their way up from the ground, digging into his cape and limbs.

"Robin! Any ideas!?" He shouts out, trying to twist and get free from the skeletal hands. He's certain that zombies and skeletons are trying to claw their way up from the earth, and he has to fight to break free from them.

Robin bleeds when she raises her head… But there's a decisive look in her eyes that worries him.

She throws herself forward, shrugging off her robe as she charges. Her blood looks oddly vivid against the violet of her skin, like her wounds aren't closing under the gaze of the monster.

' _Forneus made a potent revenant-'_ But that doesn't stop Robin, as she throws herself into the creature and flings her robe over the central eye. She tries to tear herself away, but the jaws snap down at her arm.

A pained noise comes out of Robin's throat at that, and it seems to fuel a spell growing on her fingertips. She slams her hand onto her robe and the monster behind it, and delivers a point blank blast of magic. Otherworldly pink and violet energy spark off her hands, pierce through her robe, and slam into the monster. A set of eye stalks wilt and fall to the floor, like dead leaves.

The jaws part in a silent, pained shriek, as Robin pulls herself away.

"I… Think I'll borrow one of your tricks." She murmurs, and claws a few stones up from the floor. She scatters them across the stones, and another source of heat floods the air. And Chrom stops trying to fight his way up, and instead presses himself flat into the ground.

Flame shoots from the mouths of the carvings lining the halls, crashing into the revenant and knocking it from the air. Robin gives a faint snarl as she watches, and the blood on her wounds seems to almost _glow_ , and gives the fire an extra bite to it; a reminder that her blood carries a potent, if infernal pact, and can fuel a burning rebuke. Under her desperate magic work the monster crashes into the ground. The robe over its eye finally falls away as it glares at Robin, drawing more blood from her wounds… But blind to how Chrom finally manages to break free from the bones, and drives his sword into the monster's skull.

The sound that comes from the beast pierces his ears, almost makes him drop his sword. The arms holding him crumble into dust, as Chrom pulls the blade free and starts to stagger back… Forgetting that there are still traps waiting all around them.

"WATCH OUT!" Robin shouts. She also doesn't give him a chance to do more than flinch, or glimpse the spikes rushing down on him; before his skin can get skewered, she throws herself into him, grabbing her robe in the same motion, knocking him out of the way and sending them both skidding along the ground. The screech of the revenant cuts out, replaced by a sickening crunching sound.

A few more traps crash and shatter the stonework overhead. Flame blasts overhead as well, charring the bricks. Chrom throws his arms around her, sheltering her from shrapnel and broken bits of trap.

They slide along the floor, the ceiling blurring past Chrom as he clings to Robin. He doesn't know how much he can keep her safe, but he still tries to shelter her… Until at last they skid to a stop.

"…Well. That's a different way of getting through the passages." Robin says, staring down at him.

"S-sorry-?" He offers, realizing how he has her pressed into his chest.

"We're alive. If a bit bloodied." Robin tells him. "And if I'm not mistaken, we've much closer to the treasure chamber… Which means you can probably let me go."

"R-right! Right." Chrom tries to gently lift her off him, and scramble out from under her all at the same time. Robin slides off, gazing around and only looking a little oddly pink in the face, as soft rays of lights shine through the broken ceiling.

Watching her, step off him and towards the center of the room, Chrom is faintly aware that they've come to a rest next to a pedestal, shaped into fine carvings that no human hand could manage. "If I remember right, this should be…"

He lifts his head, to see her hand resting atop the carvings, and violet-black gem atop the stonework tendrils.

And with her hand in the light, he can finally see the guild symbol emblazoned on her hand.

"Gr-Grimleal!?" Chrom spits out. "You're part of the Grimleal Guild!?"

Robin flinches at that, and in the same motion sees his own guild mark; the Ylissean brand, a stark contrast against the Grimleal mark… And that's by design, considering how often the two guilds are at odds.

"Well, sir…" Robin mutters, not meeting him eye to eye, and pulling her robe over her shoulders like a shield. "Now that we've found the treasure, I'd say that our truce is complete."

But even with her words, he can see how her fingers shiver, and hesitate to close on the gemstone.

Chrom's hand go to the sword at his side, wondering if it's finally time to bring to bear against her. Chrom glares at Robin, remembering the stories of the Grimleal, of their profane rituals. Robin meets him with that glare, tensing, looking ready to face his blade. Chrom starts to draw it… And feels the pommel bump against his bruises, where he slid along the floor.

' _Don't you remember? You'd be nursing worse, if it wasn't for her.'_

The sword slams back into the sheath, with an impact that makes Robin wince.

"…I owe you, for keeping me alive." Chrom grumbles, dropping his gaze.

Only to start, when the purple gem fills his vision. Robin holds the treasure in front of him, waiting for him to take it. Instead, Chrom stares up at her in confusion.

"Sir, you never DID figure out exactly why I came here. Or if it was on behalf of my old guild." Robin tells him.

"Your… Old guild?" He worries she'll flinch away from his questions again. Instead, she pulls herself up with a proud tilt of her head.

"If I remember correctly, one can leave one guild in favor of another. IF they can find someone willing to vouch for them." She recites the rules. "And… The Grimleal haven't done me any favors. It's part of why I…" She dips her head, letting the light show on her budding horns. "…Why I didn't have much choice, in many aspects."

Her hand goes up to trace her horns, and her tail betrays a little of her emotions, giving an anxious lash. Chrom also takes in the bite marks along Robin's skin. The punctures look painful, ragged at the edges and bleeding odd, red-violet blood.

"That's right… Y-You're… Hurt." He finds himself saying, and standing up. He carefully closes his hands over her arm, and lets a surge of energy travel out through his palms. Robin starts, feeling the jolt of healing travel along her skin and purify her wounds.

"…Never had someone willing to lay hands on me." Robin murmurs. And getting a closer look at her arms, Chrom can pick out faded scars along her arms. "So… What does that mean, that you'd stoop to healing the likes of me-?"

"It means that I made a mistake, in thinking you're my enemy. Several times over." Chrom whispers. "And… I could use a partner, in delving through dungeons like these."

He holds her wrist for a moment longer, before closing her fingers around the gem.

"You can keep the treasure, too. I've made a much better and priceless find." He grins, even as Robin finds enough strength to cuff him, laughing the entire time. It turns out she laughs a lot like he does, and has nearly the same strength in her grip when they clasp hands.

"I… Suppose I can accept that. I made a pretty good discovery as well." She tells him, favoring him with a surprisingly bright smile. And Chrom decides not to press her too much on what that discovery is; her eyes tell him enough, almost sparking whenever they meet his.


	17. Firefighters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An oddball urban fantasy AU, very lightly inspired by elements from Astral Chain.

The building is little more than a left over husk, all blackened and ashen. The walls are torn out, completely gutted from the flame. Chrom steps through ash, his boots snuffing out a lingering tongues of fire.

"They did a number on this place." Lissa murmurs at his side… Before flinching away from a lump ahead of them. Chrom narrows his eyes, already picking out bones in the ash. Some broken apart from heat, others blackened, and a few white fragments. They're the only remains of the cultists that invoked the fire, and the demons that fueled the blaze.

"Not a ringing endorsement for joining the Grimleal." Sully strides over the bones, curling her lip. "Hells, can you imagine their slogan? 'Join our cult today, and get burned alive!' It's a wonder they get any new blood."

Chrom can only give an agreeing hum, turning his focus to the perimeter. Emmeryn stands there, working the last bits of magic to snuff out the flames. Chrom has to shift his own fire tools around, in case any blazes kick back up and he needs to fight them.

"I don't know if we'll find any survivors." He tells Sully, motioning her to break off and search elsewhere. "We'll do one more sweep, and then go back to report. Lissa, you're with me, in case we DO find anyone."

"Just as long as you touch any dead bodies." Lissa mumbles, falling into step behind him.

Chrom pushes his way deeper into the building; three stories have all collapsed inward. A cold feeling in his stomach reminds him that if they hadn't arrived on the scene, hadn't sliced into the fire demons and cast their own wards, the flames could have easily jumped to the other buildings or the structure itself could have collapsed the wrong way.

A good reminder, that he couldn't afford to go lax in his duties. Chrom eyes the tangle of collapsed beams; some wood and half crisped away, some metal… And half melted. A testament to how strong this summoning was.

"We're going to have to go through that, aren't we." Lissa mumbles. In answer, Chrom rolls his shoulders and picks out the best path through the wreckage; the easiest to cut through, and the least likely to collapse.

Falchion steams, when he draws the sword; the water and ice wards on it still are reacting to the ambient magic left in the air, ready to fight back at a moment's notice. The blade almost dances in his hands, easily scything through the wooden beams. It's fast work, until one last, half melted steel barrier stands in his way. And that's when Falchion truly shines; the ash of the area goes a stark black against the sudden glow the blade gives off. The first time it touches the steel, he can hear it crackle and go brittle. The next time, Chrom puts all the force he can manage into the swing, and the steel is like glass; shattering under his attack, and falling in shards to his feet.

"…Never get tired of seeing that." Lissa tells him, and her wide eyes don't lie.

"It might've been an empty effort; more for practice than anything else." He admits, stepping past the shattered steel. "I doubt we'll find-"

The words are snatched out of his throat, as he looks beyond the fallen structure.

Because there's a center to all this chaos; a place where the blast seems to have originated from. The beams and blast marks all lay in ripples and lines, pointing to one spot in the floor. There's nothing more than a ring of ash around the epicenter, while the ground itself has turned to shiny, obsidian glass.

The black of the survivor's robe almost blends into that, covering her like a blanket. Her face is barely visible under the hood, her long silver hair fanning around her in a halo. And somehow, despite the chaos and ruin all around her, she doesn't show so much as a bruise. Chrom lets his breath out in a shocked hiss as he takes her in, and Lissa pokes her head out from behind him.

"Y-you're kidding me." She whispers, before darting past him. She skids to a stop next to the stranger, falling down on her hands and knees and checking the woman over. "Hey, Chrom…? We've got a pulse. Which means that we should probably do something."

"You have a plan for this?" He was pretty sure training and scenarios never covered a situation like this.

"W-well, no! I don't know exactly what we're supposed to do… Just that we need to do something-!"

A groan from the stranger stops Lissa short. Her eyes blink open, and for a moment, Chrom catches an odd spark behind them. The next moment, he finds himself kneeling down, extending a hand for her to take while murmuring soft assurances that she'll be alright.

And he knows that much is truth, with strength behind her fingers when she grips his hand. Even through gloves, her skin is warm to the touch.

-o-o-o-

Her name is Robin, and she makes for an enigma. Not even Emmeryn or Miriel, their mage experts, can figure her out. There's no answer for why she was able to survive a firestorm that leveled a building. Though not for lack of trying; Miriel uses every exacting, and embarrassingly personal question she has, but the most they're able to learn is her name.

And that she's confused as the rest of them. She has no memory of anything beyond Chrom and Lissa finding her in the blast zone. And while she might have survived the explosion, there's no identifying documents on her.

"I have one theory." Miriel says at last, pinching at her nose; a sign she's found the hours of questions just as draining. "That whatever phenomena shielded this young woman from the conflagration, did so only after it burned through her mind. The others in the building had their bodies burned, in exchange for power flooding their spirits. The opposite happened to our enigma."

Chrom watches Robin stare down at her hands in the meeting room. He knows she can hear them, but she doesn't dare raise her voice.

"So… What do we do?" Lissa asks, voice timid.

"We're not just turning her out and wishing her good luck." Chrom is adamant about that much. "I'm pretty sure we all swore to protect this city from the ravages of Plegia, and their infernos. And she's been hurt by them."

Even if it isn't a physical hurt. She gives a start at that, looking up from her hands to stare at Chrom… And he wonders at that grateful look he sees flash through her eyes.

"True… And we could always use another on the force." Emmeryn murmurs in assent.

"Th… Thank you." Robin says out loud, drawing everyone's focus back to her. "I wasn't certain where to go; but if there's room in this organization, then… It gives me some sort of purpose."

-o-o-o-

Robin finds that, even though her memory has been gutted by flames, she still makes for a fast learner. Maybe it's just that her head wants to be full of information, instead of frustratingly blank. Regardless, she takes in a lot in the span of a week.

She learns about Shepherd, and the fact that they're an emergency response team dedicated to stopping disasters. She also learns of Plegia, the fire worshipers and biggest threat in the city of Ylisstol. And she learns some of the basic strategies for facing the inferno cultists.

They have a surprisingly physical response… And training regimen. Frederick, the senior member of the Shepherds, doesn't cut her any slack. She needs to learn how to extinguish flames with prepared wards, or with swords treated with those same wards; a blade thrust into the heart of a fire does the job of extinguishing them, even though it quickly tarnishes the blade. Robin also learns how to throw blankets, water, and the like over start up flames.

"If you're not a magic user like most of us, that will be your standby. We don't have many blades to go around, unfortunately." Frederick tells her. Robin nods at that, and tells her arms to stop complaining over carrying heavy supplies. It's better than the odd sparking and fever the builds in her head, whenever she has to deal with anything arcane-

A sharp alarm blares into her senses, and Frederick jolts his head up at the same time as her. Red lights flash across the rooms, while the siren flares three times, in a specific pattern. Frederick picks up on it, narrowing his eyes.

"Wh-what does it mean?" She hesitates at his scowl, especially when he turns it to her. The flashing red lights do odd things to her head as well, give her mind an odd twinge, and push a strange hot feeling behind her eyes.

"It means all hands needed. There's been a major attack." He's already walking as he speaks, hand on her sleeve and guiding her out of the training hall. The other Shepherds rush by her, past a glowing map room. On the main screens, Robin can pick out a glowing dot… Right in the middle of a packed area.

"We need everyone who can fight!" Chrom's voice cuts through the alarm, and he stands at the doorway.

"Captain, I'm ready to drive!" Shouts out a woman who introduced herself earlier as Sumia, barging into the room. A red haired woman, Cordelia follows after her. Chrom nods to them, and Robin gets the feeling there'll be a fully convoy.

Frederick nudges her forward, to follow the other fighters. Robin gives Chrom an uncertain look.

"I… Did say I needed everyone who can fight." Chrom tells her.

"She knows the basics of fighting fires." Frederick says, pushing Robin forward. "She just needs someone more seasoned to show her the ropes… Though I'm busy enough with my own students."

In answer, Chrom puts a hand on her shoulder. The fever Robin had been feeling dims in response, and she finds herself nodding.

-o-o-o-

Sumia takes the wheel, and has a surprisingly heavy foot on the gas pedal. She cuts through the streets, and takes them to the heart of the fire. Even through the windows and closed doors, Robin can feel the heat of the flames.

And when she stumbles out of the car, the inferno bites into her. It threatens to blister her skin, and boil the sudden layer of sweat coating her. But Chrom doesn't flinch from the sensation, instead charging towards the entrance.

"ROBIN! You're with me!" He shouts over his shoulder. By reflex, she chases after him. Into the doorway, and the mouth of the flames. Fire shoots out of from the doorway, streaming off it and the windows in strange, red and orange curtains with tints of white and blue. There's a hypnotic, rhythmic pulsing to the flames, almost like some great beast is breathing in and out. A part of her heart aches at the sight, finding it almost beautiful-

If not for the screams. The cries for help jolt Robin out of her reverie, and pull Chrom forward. The flames reach out for them, ready to leap from building to flesh. In answer, Chrom unsheathes his blade, brandishing it against the fire. The sword glows blue, the blaze seems to shrink from the weapon.

Robin takes that as her cue, and grabs a hose from the cumbersome backpack she's carrying. The symbols engraved around the nozzle burn bright, pale blue. Summoning water from another source and cycling it through the backpack and hose. She almost looses her grip on the thing, but it still spits out gouts of water on the fire. The flames shrink back further, almost hissing in pain. It gives them room to move forward, one step at a time.

"You remember the basics from briefing?" Chrom calls over the roar and splintering of the burning building.

"There's… A source for the fire demons." Robin calls back. "If we take that out and secure the building, we stop the inferno."

She risks a glance behind her; through the shifting veils of smoke she can see the task force already fanning around the building. Some reinforcing the supports so they won't give out, others hemming in the fire and attacking from different angles. It all leaves her and Chrom with a slightly more stable battlefield, to cut their way through.

"Got it right." Chrom tells her. "The hard part is figuring out where it is, exactly. Probably in the heart of the building…" He trails off, focusing and tilting his head. Getting a read on the magic pulsing through the building, and trying to figure out where it emits from.

"I think…" Robin forces her eyes shut for a moment, even as she fears that the fires might reach out for them. But she tries to focus past the fear, past an odd, growing fever building back up in her head-

"Third floor!" She tells him.

"Right! That's what I picked out, too!" Chrom rushes forward, through hallways. "Elevators are out. We need to take the stairs."

It's a nightmare to climb those. The smoke turns into a choking curtain, and Robin can barely breathe or see. The light from Chrom's blade is the only thing that isn't roiling shadows, or flickers of orange. She falters for a split second… Only for Chrom to grab her by the hand, pulling her upwards. Her steps stumble, and the sudden motion makes the backpack slip from her shoulders and clatter to the floor.

"Th-thanks…" She barely manages, as they burst onto the third floor.

"Don't mention it. Everyone gets spooked, the first time they have to climb stairs." He rubs soot off his face as he speaks, and Robin wonders over the fact that none of it has fallen on her… But not for long. There's a thin, plaintive cry echoing off the halls. Chrom breaks off his chase, heading for the screams instead. Robin follows close behind, trying to keep half her focus on the where the source is; a few rooms from the cry, perhaps. But splitting her focus makes her sweat harder, her thoughts feel a little more blurry-

Though they focus long enough when Chrom kicks down a door. On the other side, she can make out a woman with blonde hair half streaked with ash. She huddles on the floor near her desk, and the pink ribbons in her hair look half wilted from the heat.

"Miss, we're here to help-!" Chrom tries to shout out. But as he steps in, the fires shift around him. There's a strange, sharp hissing in the air… And Robin can almost make out figures in the flames, monstrous creatures ready to pounce on Chrom, now that he's turned his blind side to them.

Fire demons; ones crowed in twisting, burning horns, and with flickering ashen wings. They look almost draconic, a fact supported in how they exhale wisps of flame.

They lash out, not directly at Chrom, but all around him. Shrouding the room in flame and smoke, and making it impossible to get through the flames. Robin tries to bring the hose back around, before realizing it slipped off her back in the stairs. Chrom can't hack his way through back out and through the ring of flame, as a monster detaches from the flames, forming another barrier and holding him fast in place. The room is growing closer around them, and Robin finds herself trapped on the other side, forced to watch.

She can't see a way out for him or the young woman. They're going to burn…

' _ **No.**_ _'_ The thought is surprisingly calm and focused, with how her heart pounds. Robin glares at the flames, puts all her focus on them… And the fires in the doorway dim for a split second, dying in a sputter of sparks and clearing the way.

"CHROM!" He picks up on the lull, and grabs the woman by the arm, yanking her forward. The monster wreathed in flames tries to give chase with a howl… Instead, Robin reaches out with her hands, index fingers extended as she guides the flames. And they answer to her, churning about, framing Chrom and the rescue and blazing brighter. Drawing air and fuel away from the monster, and leaving it diminished.

And the perfect mark for Chrom's sword. He slashes into it, felling the monster in an instant. It dies with a howl… And all around them, the flames seem to dim and die out.

"So that was the anchor…" Chrom murmurs, before turning to stare at Robin. "H-how exactly did you DO that?"

And once again, she doesn't have an answer for him.

-o-o-o-

' _Pyromancer.'_ The word rings in Chrom's head. There's an odd, deadly ring to that word. One who can manipulate flames according to her will. Almost like a cultist, but without needing to subject herself to a burning.

It's almost like she has a dragon sealed in her; he felt waves of her power, when she challenged the fire demon, and weakened it enough for him to attack. Chrom isn't shy about detailing that, in his report… And his insistence that Robin stays with the team.

"Think about it." He pleads to Emmeryn, in the meeting room. "One of our biggest challenges is finding the monsters, and killing them fast before they do any damage. If she can pull that off, or even control the flames and weaken them…"

He knows there's an unspoken worry; a 'what if she decides to turn that power on us.' It hangs around the room, and makes Robin stare at her hands.

"I… I want her to stay on my team. As my partner, if necessary. I'll take responsibility for her, if it means she can stay." He finds himself offering, and instantly knows that's true. And looking at her again, he finds it painful to see that lost, almost fearful look on her face. "She can help people, just like the rest of us. I KNOW that's true, because I've seen it."

He transfers his gaze to Emmeryn, trying to put his sincerity into words, stare, and will… Until at last, she dips her head in a nod.

-o-o-o-

When the meeting is over, and the details of Robin's position as the team's pyromancer are worked out, Chrom finds her on the roof of the building, out near the helipad. The night air helps cool the city, and clears the mind. Something Robin must feel, with how she tilts her head up to the sky, breathing in and out.

"Well… Welcome to your first day on the job. And a good job out there, too." Chrom tells her, keeping his voice low so he doesn't jolt her too badly. She still spins around on her heel, looking at him with a mixture of surprise, respect… And now, a touch of warmth to her face.

"Y-yeah. It's going to take a lot to get used to." Robin tells him. She hesitates for a moment, before adding. "Thank you… For believing in me. That I've the potential to do something good."

"It's because that's the truth." Chrom tells her.

They don't immediately go back inside, instead staying up on the roof landing, and watching the lights of the city set the night sky aglow.


	18. Bodyguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the Final Fantasy X AU! Which I desperately wish I had more word space to dedicate towards, but liked the initial ideas enough to post as-is.

"She's not meant for this." Even with the sigh of waves, and the slow thrum of the boat pushing its way across the seas between Besaid and Kilika, Robin can hear voices carry. She was about to push herself up from the supply crates and go downstairs to rest. Now, she freezes in place and curls a little further against the boxes.

"I understand your altruism, your grace… But she's a poor choice to guard and shield you. Worse, she still has holes in her memories, and a head fogged by poison from that… Abomination." She recognizes Frederick's voice, but that growl at the end of it is a new facet to him.

"Frederick." Comes a new voice; the same one that woke her from a foggy sleep, and plucked her off the beach and out of the tides. She relaxes a fraction; Chrom has shown a knack for being the calmest of the odd group she's found herself in. "You hate anything that's been in contact with-"

"I don't HATE her, sir. I just… Don't trust her, with such an important mission. Though now that you mention it… We still don't know much about her. For all we know, she could be from the cults-"

"Sheesh, Frederick. Why not accuse her of being a fiend while you're at it." Comes a new voice, and Robin can almost hear Lissa rolling her eyes. "Those weird cults might as well be boogeymen, with how little we see them."

She also can't help but smile at the other girl's cheek… And notice that, for all the gaps in her memories, she's done a decent job of remembering everyone's names.

"She also saved Chrom's neck during that attack." Robin traces her fingers over healing wounds, as she listens. Those monsters had sprung at them, the moment they began the path out of the village. A massive, leathery winged bird had led the charge, almost blocking out the sun… But Robin had found she was a match for it, both with sword and with spell. "She can handle herself in a fight, better than I can… And yet you still trust ME to guard Chrom on the pilgrimage."

"…Only because you kept pestering me until I relented. And we'll have a few more guardians to help him on the journey, starting in Besaid-"

"So doesn't that mean that one more person won't hurt?" Lissa pesters and presses.

Her ears are starting to burn as she listens to them, at odds with the cool sea air washing over the ship. Robin pauses for only a moment, then forces herself up, drawing a breath to speak her part-

The deck shudders underneath her, and that breath leaves in a gasp. Waves break apart into spray that rains down on the ship, instantly soaking Robin straight through. Chrom and his companions don't fare any better; Frederick is the only one to stay standing, while the others collapse onto the sea-slicked floor.

Screams filter down to the deck, from the watch tower. Through them, Robin can pick out one word.

"SIN!"

It's a word that makes Frederick bristle, drawing the lance from his back in a fluid motion. Robin forces her eyes from him and instead to the origin of the water spouts; towards the island-sized monster breaching out of the sea. Sin is like a mountain moving and arching through the waves.

"F-Fight back!" Chrom shouts, trying to scramble his way up and sweep sodden bangs out of his eyes. Robin slides her way towards him, even as he slips across the deck and fetches against the ropes and gunwales.

"Summoner!?" One of the crew cries, staring at him in disbelief.

"The summoner is right!" Yells the captain of the ship. "We're too close to the ports! If we don't drive it off, it'll destroy everything! So fight for your lives, your families-!"

"…Or because you can." There's a strange buzz traveling through Robin as she says that, and finally reaches Chrom. She reaches out for him… But off the side of the ship, she can also see the behemoth. She can see wings doubling as fins, helping the monster fly or swim as it sees fit… And she can even pick out a strange, six eyed head glaring up at them from the depths.

The buzz only increases in her head as she stars at those red eyes… And it demands an outlet. Robin feels the beginnings of magic pulse along her limbs, burn at her skin, and demand to be let loose. And so she does, lobbing a powerful thunder spell at the monster, right as harpoons and arrows are loosed. All the attacks hit home, singing flesh and puncturing through the wings… And knocking something loose from the monster's skin. Strange scales bury themselves on the deck, pulsing with their own life and unfolding into strange, insectoid creatures.

It gives Chrom and Frederick something to fight, as they unsheathe their weapons and strike into the monsters. And they paint the deck with a glowing blue blood and ichor from the creatures.

"Sinspawn!" Frederick snaps out, naming the creatures. Robin has seen him irritated before, frustrated… But never worked into a rage like this. He throws himself at the monsters, jabbing and stabbing, heedless of how his attacks take him away from Chrom.

Or how Chrom suddenly has his back unguarded. Robin watches as the sinspawn encircle Chrom, wings thrumming and ready to tear into him. So she opts to slice into them first, weaving lightning magic out of the air, putting all the strength she has into the spells and heedless of the way it drains her own energy.

Chrom jolts when the first spells strike home, before looking over to her

"Knew I was right, that you'd make a good guardian." He manages to tell her, before the fighting picks up again. Sin is trying to break free, lashing and twisting on the ropes, and entering into a strange test of strength against the ship, as the two entities pull on the lines.

Chrom whirls around, ready to fight more… But he can't quite anticipate Sin slamming against the ship. The entire craft groans and lists from the impact. It sends Chrom skidding, tilting as he hits the railings again. He hangs there for a split second… And then goes tilting over, into the ocean, which now boils with sinspawn. Robin doesn't have time to think, throwing herself over the ship and after Chrom. Frederick's startled cries follow her, as do Lissa's panicked shrieks. All Robin can do is silently promise to them that she'll keep him safe. Whether she's suited to the job or not.

-o-o-o-

Gradually, Chrom becomes aware that he's laying on a beach. And even more gradually, the lead up of what happened flows back to him, and he jolts up.

"H-hey! Easy." He recognizes the voice, and feels a sudden calm wash over him. The voice belongs to Robin. So wherever he is, it at least means he isn't alone. He raises his head, blinking grit and salt water from his eyes, and taking a look around.

After fighting with the behemoth that is Sin, seeing it stain the waters red, it feels strange to find themselves on an island where everything is so tranquil. The harbor is a beautiful sight, calm waters mirroring the sunset overhead.

"There isn't any trace of Sin around here." Robin tells him. "I looked around to be sure… Though I'm not sure where we are."

He raises his head, looking at the strange, temple like ruins sprouting from the waves. He's had them described to him often enough. Emmeryn told him about the spires, and this was one of the last stories he overheard her telling Lissa. Before she left on her own pilgrimage.

"Besaid…" He whispers out. "We got lucky; we found our way right to where we needed to go."

"Then in that case… Come on," Robin pulls on his arm, trying to get him up… Only to go slack and collapse against his shoulder. She gives a startled noise, that trails off into a rough shuddering breath. "I-I might have overdone it…"

"Definitely." Chrom tells her. "Didn't you know that fast casting spells can drain you out-?"

Right away, he realizes it's a stupid question.

"R-right. Sin's toxin. You'd think _**I'd**_ be the one remembering that." He pushes himself up, throwing her arm around his shoulder in the same motion.

"Here," Chrom tells her, boosting her onto his back, and hooking his arms around her legs. "I haven't given any piggyback rides in a while. Not since Lissa got too big for 'em. But I don't think I'm too out of practice."

Robin responds with a confused mumble, but still had enough presence of mind to throw her arms around him.

"See?" He tells her, taking his first step. "You're getting the hang of this… And don't worry; we're on an island with a village. Once you rest up in a proper bed, you'll be fine." Though with how much she sags against him, he's half convinced he'll nod off on his back.

He tries to keep her awake as they walk along old trails winding through the island. He tries to point out sights to her; the waterfalls that stream down the cliffs, the old ruins from the days before the wars, even the vibrant flowers. The red, violet, and orange blooms all echo the sunset overhead.

It's a relaxing sight; one that makes the attack on their ship feel like it happened months ago, instead of hours.

' _Things will be alright.'_ He tells himself, as a way of picking his feet up. _'The ship can't be too far off, and we can always get a message off to them, once we reach the town-'_

"…'m sorry." Robin mumbles in his ear, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm… Not much of guardian. Supposed to be protecting and helping you, not the other way around."

"Well, you DID keep me from getting skewered by sinspawn." Chrom points out. "Maybe we can call it even, with how we've helped each other out."

"But… You gave me a…" Robin trails off, and he can feel her bury her face into his shoulder. He tries not to shiver from the contact. "I… Owe you a lot. I'm not just wandering around, thanks to you. I need to prove that I'm… That I deserve to help you-"

"H-hey." He gathers just enough breath to say. "Is this about what Frederick said?" The way she tenses against him shows that he's on the mark. "Look… Frederick is a little more paranoid than most people. He survived a Crusader's fight against Sin, and that left some marks on him."

Robin goes silent at that.

"And the fact is… We sort of need a few more guardians, if I'm going to complete this… This quest of mine." And right now, he's trying not to think about what lays at the end of it. Or the reason why his sister went out on that same quest, and never returned. "The fact is… I'm not exactly the perfect image of a summoner. I'd rather fight something hand to hand, instead of standing back and letting my guardians handle it. And it's not like I have a lot of magic aptitude either; something just about every summoner has…."

He trails off, giving a harsh laugh. "I've got more in common with Crusader Mi'ihen than any of the great summoners. Sometimes, I wonder what I'm even doing."

Beyond following in the footsteps of his family. Chrom sighs, getting a lungful of misty air as they walk across a land bridge; bordered on one side by falls, on the other with a steep drop off into a lagoon.

"What I'm trying to say is… Don't beat yourself up for casting too many spells, and draining yourself. Right now, I'd give up a lot to be able to use magic like that. And be a proper summoner-"

That's when a stone chooses to turn under his feet. His stomach gives an odd lurch, as he realizes that there's nothing between him and the ledge, apart from air and his own balance… And as Robin wobbles against him, he loses even that.

He forgets to scream, as they fall off the edge of the bridge. Instead he sucks in his breath, and tries to turn around so he hits the water first. He smacks into the lagoon like a stone, sinking beneath the water for a split second.

The next moment, his body drifts back up, and he clings onto Robin as they burst back into the air.

"You're a proper cliff diver, though." Robin manages to tell him, brushing sodden bangs out of her face. He finds himself flicking a little water at her, for her cheek… And that even coaxes a small laugh out of her. It seems that the dip in the lagoon, however accidental, has given her a little energy.

"So… Do we swim the rest of the way?" Robin asks him, spinning around as she treads water. He follows her gaze, taking in their surroundings. The walls surrounding the pool are steep and sheer cliffs… But there's at least one chink in them.

"Over there." He says, swimming for the gap in the rocks. It's like a small thread of canyon has been woven into the stone, with faint rays of sunlight shining on a bare dirt floor that turns into a scrap of beach sand.

They manage to pull themselves back onto land. Robin stands a little taller than before, looking around.

"I guess this is our best path, going forward." She tells him, before taking the lead; still determined to play her role as guardian, even though she's still tired and sodden.

-o-o-o-

The path twists through the rocks, going from a strange passage to a tunnel. Glass spheres are set in scones in the walls, taking over illumination when the sun is snuffed out. Her eyes adjust to the gloom of the tunnel quick enough, though Robin keeps one hand on the wall to help guide her.

"What is this place…?" She finds herself asking.

"It… Looks almost like a Cloister." Chrom names the thing. He sticks close to her, almost tangling their feet together. "I-it's a place where summoners and guardians are meant to go, to prove themselves."

His feet scuff to a stop behind her, and Robin pauses, leaning against the walls. There's a slight change to the texture of the stone; something that suggests these passages were cut by hand, instead of shaped by nature. There's a faint impression of carvings under her fingers, and she picks out shapes that could be human… And others, that give the impression of giant winged creatures.

"Does this mean we're meant to be here?" She asks.

"Well… It was something we needed to do, eventually. Though I always thought I'd have Lissa backing me up." He wavers behind her, uneasily shifting his feet… Before at last stepping forward. "But we're here now, so we might as well accept the will of Yevon, and see it through."

She wants to ask about the name; she can almost feel the weight behind it, showing it's something important. But she also doesn't want to halt Chrom, now that he's acting more decisively. So instead, Robin falls into step beside him. The cloister path opens up enough to allow the two of them to walk side by side. The tunnel is eerily silent, swallowing up all sound from the outside world.

But eventually, she hears something else; something that sounds like a strange murmuring, like a dozen voices are seeping up through the floor. And the floor itself gives a strange pulse underfoot, as little motes of light trace through the tiles forming underfoot. Wherever they've found themselves, it's a place that has its own heartbeat.

Eventually the tunnels broaden, turning into a massive, domed chamber; one hewn from rock, and adorned with cloth and lanterns. It's like they've found a palace, somewhere deep underground. And as they step into it, the faint murmurs die away, replaced with a single voice.

Robin halts, taking in the sudden call; it seems to echo around them in woman's voice, crying out in a long, undulating song. It's something Robin can almost recognize the words to-

But she doesn't get to listen for long, as Chrom steps forward, almost hypnotized by the call. And Robin finds herself pulled along, up the stairs of the chamber, even while she tries to look around. As beautiful as the room is, there's something odd marring the walls; something that looks like black scouring marks, cruelly cut into the original script of the place.

"Chrom, is that normal-?" She tries to ask, right as they step through the doorway.

Into a room decorated with strange sigils, and a glass floor. She freezes when she looks down, to see a shape encased beneath the floor. It's an echo of the carving her fingers picked out; giant wings sprouting from a vaguely humanoid creature, all encased in stone and glass.

"…That's… A fayth. Something that becomes a summon." Chrom sighs out. "And it's what I need, to actually be a summoner-!"

He steps towards the center of the shrine, and the creature frozen underneath. For a moment, Robin wonders if the beast shivers in response… And she also wonders at the strange, dark flicker that dances across the form. It echoes those dark marks she'd seen on the shrine walls… And Chrom notices the shadow as well. He shoots a glance over his shoulder, and Robin sees more dark marks defacing the doors.

"Oh… Gods…" He whispers, and something in his expression makes Robin go cold. And right as he speaks, the song cuts out, replaced with chilling silence. "Frederick wasn't kidding about those cults after all… How did the Sinless get in here?"

"S-sinless…" Robin mutters, feeling something about the name tugging at her mind. There's something familiar to the name; something that brings to mind red eyes, like what crown the head of Sin. And of a terrible pain burning across her hand, under the gaze of those eyes.

"They're a cult that sees Sin as a god, and worship it; either to gift them with powers, or to turn its wrath on their enemies. And it looks like they tried to deface the shrine, and the aeon!" Chrom kneels down as he speaks, spreading his hands over the hairline cracks along the glass.

Robin wonders at the strange buzzing growing in her head; it's a match for the same hum that latched into her mind, the first time they faced Sin. Beneath them, the half human seems to shiver in response, the wings trying to break free of the glass.

"What did they do to you-?" Chrom whispers to the entity. The glass crackles a little more beneath them, like the chamber is getting ready to swallow Chrom up. It drives Robin to kneel beside him, throwing her arm over Chrom… And ready to protect him.

The sudden touch of her hand on Chrom makes him brace up. Right as a shadowy phantom rises up through the glass, spreading more of those breaks along the surface. Robin braces, glaring at the strange, shadowy beast. It looks almost like a bird, with long batlike wings, and a sickly green and red tinge coating the monster.

Robin feels a dread grip at her heart, telling her to shrink away, to run, or to bow down in submission. But the grip she has on Chrom is equal to that, and helps her brace up.

' _I'm not abandoning my summoner, no matter what he's facing.'_ She thinks, glaring up at the dark creature. And Chrom does the same. Even as the monster's wings beat the air, and try to bring a whirlwind to life in the chamber, they stand their ground.

"Stand down." Chrom murmurs to the creature, and a strange shrill noise builds up in it. "Stand down, and return to your true self." No matter how the winds try to beat at him, he braces… And seems to draw strength from having Robin at his side.

"Valefor." The name whispers out between his lips.

' _Valdefor.'_ Robin echoes it, staring at the dark monster. It locks eyes with her for a split second… And then something in the creature seems to shatter, as its body suddenly bleeds away into glowing motes of energy.

As the shadow fades out, it halts the crackle of glass underneath them. And just like that, the odd darkness surrounding the entity beneath them winks out. In its place, a glow seems to grow along the entity, and a ghostly form rises up; a mirror to the shadowy monster she and Chrom had been staring down. But this entity doesn't lash out at them.

Instead, the ghostly creature drifts through the air, hovering over them and spreading its wings out protectively. And at last, it fades away and leaves Robin with little more than a shiver. There's a slight crackle of power still tracing through her limbs, and she's certain that some of those left over motes of power from the shadowy creature have settled over her.

"What was that-?" Robin asks, as the voice slowly picks up and sings again.

"A… A dark Aeon. I've heard rumors of those; they're like dark echoes of the true aeons." Chrom traces his hand over his heart. "I… Think the cultists must have somehow entered the shrine. And tried to corrupt the aeon."

Robin shivers at that, and wonders at the energy still crackling through her. And why it was so similar to what she felt from Sin.

"But… At least now I have my own summon. My very first." Chrom clings to her hand, giving a slightly delirious grin. "We DID it, together!"

He slowly turns, back to the entrance.

"Chrom…?" Robin still hesitates.

"I know… I've got a lot of questions. What's going on with those cultists, or what they did to the aeon… But… I'm ready to try and find some answers. And I'll have my guardian to help me through it, right…?"

Robin can't help but nod at that, and clasp Chrom by the wrist.

"Right. I did promise to protect you… And I'm not about to go back on that oath." And no matter what else may happen, she'll keep him alive.

' _It's what a guardian does, after all.'_


	19. 19th Century

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring guest appearances from Fire Emblem: Fates! There's also a fair amount of anachronisms going on here, so it reads more like an alternate history fantasy. Namely that the Nohr-Perry Black Ships stayed around for a lot longer, influenced policy change, the Boshin war either started earlier, went longer, or overlapped with the Satsuma Rebellion, and the Haito Edict or similar was sneaked into place at the same time. This is probably because of magic dragons and their influence. With all that said, I hope there's something enjoyable in here, and thanks for reading!

The rain drives needles into his skin, and thunder makes his arm buzz and ache with pain; like the storm has fingers, and is trying to reach deep into his skin and pry the contents of his arm loose. Chrom grits his teeth against the chill and pain both, and forces himself to continue on.

The rain sluices down his bangs as well; after losing his topknot, his hair feels like an unruly mess, obscuring his sight and his feet stumble through the forest. They catch against tree roots, bruising his feet, and mud stains the former pristine threads of his robes.

Thunder crackles overhead, the explosion of sound threatening to bow his head, and knock him into the ground.

' _Find succor with Hoshido. Make them your allies.'_ He keeps his feet going, one stride at a time.

Those are the words of his father, that keep him going Even as the memory stings his ears and burn his face-

' _Keep Falchion safe. No matter what it costs you.'_

He doesn't get time to dwell on that, as the skies blaze with white light overhead. A rumbling traces through the ground, and makes the trees tremble and move like waves on a storm wracked sea. And somehow, all his training and lessons didn't prepare him for having the ground go out from under him.

The best Chrom can manage is to keep his head sheltered, as he tumbles and falls through mud, leaves, and grass… Until at last he comes to a halt, where a river cuts through the forest. He skids into the water, and the river finds a way to soak anything the rain missed.

But at least he comes a rest in the shallows. Lightning continues to pulse and flicker overhead, while the waters are like quicksilver. Chrom pulls himself up, struggling against the storm and splashing for the shore-

A shore that has someone else crumpled against the sand. He bristles when he sees the lump of dark clothing.

' _Nohr!?'_ His thoughts hiss urgently, and his hands go for a sword that isn't there. He wants to curse everything; the law for banning the weapons, his father for taking such drastic measures, the constant pressure from the dark clothed foreigners-

But then the lump on the ground gives a confused mumble, and all his frustration cuts out. Whoever this person is, it's clear that they aren't a threat. And beneath the dark clothes, the stranger looks as threadbare and battered as he does.

The hood falls from the stranger's face as she lifts her head up, picking up on his splashes in the river… And flinches at the sight of him. Chrom finds himself wincing as well, wondering how he must look. Stained with mud and wild hair, he's a far cry from looking either noble or like much of a samurai. And he certainly doesn't have a sword at his waist any longer… So all he's left with is his hands. He cautiously reaches out to her.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He also keeps his voice soft; just now, he doesn't have it in him to sound commanding or proud. The storm and battles have beaten all of that out of him, replacing any bravado with a hushed voice.

"I-I know, Chrom." The stranger says, her eyes widening right as she says his name. Chrom knows that he's staring as well; as battered as he is, he doubts even his own family would recognize him as the son of a great lord.

"Y-you know who I am?" And if so, does that make her a friend, or a foe?

"No, I…" A crackle of lightning makes them both flinch. When he blinks his eyes clear, it's to see the stranger rubbing at her head. "I just… Grasped your name for a moment-"

The situation is strange, Chrom knows. He finds himself kneeling next to the stranger, taking in more of her features. She looks like she might have some ties to Nohr… But lacks any of their usual weapons. Only the splashes of violet on her robes suggest that she might come from the black fleet… Though Chrom doubts that after fifty years of dominion, that they'd be ready to send confused young women out to do their bidding-

And he's also never seen spirits dancing around Nohr ambassadors, either. They've always brought their own magic, a strange echo to the dragon veins tracing the lands. But that's where the similarities end; in his eyes, and his father's eyes, Nohrian magic gets twisted about, using books and tomes for focuses instead of talismans, the animistic creatures all stripped away in favor of raw elemental power.

Which makes it all the stranger that a small glimmering animal shivers through the undergrowth, hesitating at the woman's feet before shifting into a small flame crested bird and fluttering off.

"…Robin?" He identifies the spirit, right before it winks out. And in response, the stranger gives him a startled blink. It takes another moment for Chrom to realize he's guessed her name.

"That… That IS my name. I remember that now!" She whispers out, looking half astonished. Strands of hair stick to her forehead thanks to the storm, and when she brushes them aside, she flinches from even that contact with her head.

Rough as this night has been for him, he suspects she's undergone even worse.

"Well… Whoever you are, Robin, and whatever happened to your mind… We can hash it out somewhere else. I don't want to be here when the riverbank floods." He lifts his head, trying to get his bearings. "Can you walk? I was told to make my way to the old capital… And I'd sooner not leave you here, alone."

In answer, Robin shakily tries to find her feet and giving a hesitant nod. When he offers his hand again, she doesn't hesitate in taking it. His father would likely be shrieking in his ear right now, that it's beneath him to help such a person… But right now, Chrom isn't interested in thinking about his father, or the ache still lingering in his arm. Robin's grip helps to dim that, and have him focus on putting one foot forward.

-o-o-o-

The storm gradually fades, replaced with a chilling mist. And as they walk, Robin finds herself looking at Chrom. She knows the name somehow even better than her own… And also knows that he's someone to be trusted, no matter how rough he looks. She keeps her eyes on him, hoping that will cease the buzz in her head; it's been there since she woke up.

"S-sir…?" She asks. "Aren't you…?" She forces a deep breath to figure out her words. "You have the look of a… A samurai."

"Even though the officials have torn away my sword and most of my appearance?" There's a slightly wry, bitter note in his voice as he speaks.

"That's… What happened? Is that why you were out in the wilds?"

"That… And orders from my father." Chrom gives a shiver as he speaks. "He didn't want to give up the family blade. So he told ME to take it, to safeguard our legacy…"

Robin stares at that, looking over his appearance; because no matter how she looks at him, she can't pick out any swords. Chrom seems to dwell on that ideas as well, as he traces his hand over his sash and belt. Both lacking the usual blades.

"So I know I don't look the part of being a samurai." He mutters. "And my father never hesitated to remind me of that…"

"I don't know about that; you look proud enough to me." Chrom blinks at that. "I-it just seems to suit you. I'm not certain on why." There's a lot of things she doesn't understand right now… Though she does know that a branch snap in the forest isn't a good sign. The mist clears just enough to show dark shapes moving through the haze and among the trees.

"What's-!?" Robin whispers, staring at the shadowy figures and their dark clothing.

"Nohr troops!" Chrom steps in front of her, shielding her from the patrol. Robin still chances a glance over his shoulder, and picks out figures clad in armor and atop black coated horses. There's an odd twinge in her head as she watches them, that insists this sight SHOULD be familiar-

"Xander, sir. I'm certain I heard something. Could be our quarry." Comes a stern voice. It trails off when the figures get a good look at her and Chrom.

"Not Hoshidan. But… This is still our lucky day." One of them says, and Robin's skin crawls a little from the odd croon.

"Hans? What are you saying?" Asks one of the mounted men. At his side, a younger figure in pale hair flutters, watching the confrontation unfold.

"Oh, Gunter… You and your ward have taken a few too many blows to the head. Don't you recognize the young lordling? The very one we're told to capture?" The foot soldier sneers at Chrom. "…Though he doesn't seem to have the sword with him. A shame… But separating his head from his shoulders should still please the commanders."

"Restrain your bloodlust." Says another rider, brushing blonde hair from his face. "We can always take him prisoner… IF he surrenders."

The man digs his heels into his horse, sending it forward.

"Sir Chrom? My name is Xander of Nohr."

"You're a long way from your black fleet." Chrom growls, standing his ground even while the soldier towers over him.

"The chaos gripping your country has forced our hand, and required our direct involvement." Xander answers. Through the odd haze collecting in her head, Robin can remember a few details; that black ships had arrived on the shore… But nearly twenty years ago.

' _How long has this struggle been lasting?'_

"Still, if we can capture you, and those like you…" Xander grimaces as he speaks, showing how little he cares for the notion. "…We'll have more sway in how to shape the country. It's nothing personal… But I'll need to ask you to surrender."

"W-wait." The pale figure near Guntar interrupts. Robin picks out more of that oddly familiar hair; pale white strands that wind down the back of a woman. And Robin can't help but feel another odd twinge; this time like she's facing a mirror of her… And the sneering foot soldier takes note of that.

"…And we've found a wayward scion as well. The lords Garon and Validar are going to be VERY pleased-" Hans tracks forward, licking his lips and giving Robin an almost hungry look. He grips a handle over his back, drawing a massive axe.

"Stay. Your. Hand." Xander snaps the order, and the ice in his voice freezes Hans to the spot. "We don't attack unless he-"

"I won't surrender." Chrom cuts Xander off. "It's nothing personal for me either. But I have my orders, to stay out of Nohrian hands."

"That's all I needed to hear!" Hans cackles, shoving his way past Xander.

"Chrom…!" She doesn't want to see him cut down, weaponless. She'll do whatever it takes, even if she has to take the blow herself, or draw on the weird magic buzzing through her brain-

She tries to pull Chrom aside. And that's when she feels a strange hum of magic, and echo of what's in her own brain, trembling along his arm. Chrom shrugs her off, narrowing his eyes on Hans. He takes one step forward, straight into the downward swing of the axe. A ripple shudders through his arm, and Robin feels her teeth go on edge. The blade is arcing, ready to slice straight through Chrom… Only to halt, as it crashes against Chrom. Yet somehow it doesn't violently rip his arm off.

And she realizes that he's gripping a sword, his skin still raw and pink from where the sword burst out of his arm.

"…I need to correct you." Chrom says, glaring up at Hans. Even the other Nohr soldiers have frozen in their tracks, their horses snorting and backing away. "I neither lack a blade, nor am defenseless. And I still have Falchion at my side."

He throws Hans back with a snarl, a cut tracing down the man's chest. It sends Hans scurrying away, screaming like he's lost an arm instead of blood. Xander however, is made of sterner stuff, and he sends his own horse charging forward.

The strange buzz in Robin's head reaches its peak, going from an odd drone to sounding like the rushing of thousands of wings. She throws her hands out by reflex… And magic arcs off her limbs in response. As Chrom clashes blades with Xander, a flurry of red clad, spectral creatures harry Xander and his steed. Beaks and wings beat at him, forcing him back.

With a sick feeling, Robin sees that her own spells are drawing blood off the soldier… At least until the pale haired woman leaps in. There's a blade in her hands, spinning and slicing into the magic as though she's cutting arrows from their flight.

"Corrin-?" Xander manages, naming the stranger.

' _Yet she doesn't look THAT strange.'_ Once again Robin is struck by their similarities. And Corrin also gets a good look at her, as she traces the attack back to Robin.

Even with the chaos erupting around them, Robin manages to meet Corrin eye to eye… And feels something strange stir in her. It makes those odd pulses of magic she felt in herself and Chrom feel like tickles in comparison. Now something churns in her chest, and it feels like her heart might burst and her skin rent asunder-

Corrin gives a pained hiss as well… And as though she decides Robin is the source of that pain, she throws herself forward.

Chrom doesn't get a chance to counter; not with Xander and Gunter both trying to ride him down and wear down his defenses. Leaving Robin to face the other woman. Unlike Chrom, she doesn't have a sword lurking in her arm, nothing more than her own hands and magic to try and stop the sword-

But the sword doesn't land. It drops from Corrin's sudden, nerveless hand, as she shudders and gives a strange, almost bestial snarl. Corrin lashes out with her own hands, the fingers going impossibly sharp, a strange crackling sound echoing through the bones as her palms widen, broaden… And become a strange, gaping maw. Ready to swallow Robin.

The teeth sink into her shoulder, her blood burning through the wounds. Through the pained haze, Robin can see Corrin staring at her, shock and panic moving through her crimson stained eyes… And Robin knows that her own eyes are a match to that, as her own hand shudders up. Her fingers writhe and twist, and she can feel the same transformation taking root in her limbs.

"Corrin-!?" Xander breaks off his clash, staring as the two of them lock in combat, malformed and twisted limbs both clashing and trying to tear chunks off the other… And something more is building through her limbs. She sees a field of energy building between them like a sphere, like the magic in them is calling out to the other, clashing, building up pressure-

And then that pressure explodes, sending Robin flying backwards. She crashes along the ground, as a storm roars back to life over them. Robin stares up at the churning clouds from her place on the ground; she recognizes their pattern; she's certain that she's seen this same turbulent sky, the world trying to tear itself asunder as power boils through her… And tries to sear away her memory.

"ROBIN!" Chrom matches his voice to Xander, shouting through the chaos. He ducks beneath the horses, charging next to Robin. His arm twists, absorbing the blade as he reaches for her… And something about his touch stills the worse of her changes.

And just to add to the chaos, the forest explodes around them, figures in pale clothing slamming into the Nohr forces.

"…A-and there's our Hoshido friends." Chrom murmurs in Robin's ears, pulling her upright and holding her close. He still looks ready to lash out, if anything dares to fight him again… But instead the Hoshido figures chase at the Nohr fighters, the horses screaming and giving up the battle.

One man in scarlet and white keeps the pressure up, and a sword of his own crackles in the man's grip. There's lighting blazing along the sword, equal to anything blazing across the sky. Robin feels her vision swim, as the sword swings and spits sparks; and overhead, the storm seems to twist, almost like the coils of a dragon.

The shouts are what draw her back, as the band of fighters finish the battle, and leave the Nohr patrol to bolt through the forest; fierce fighters they might be, but they can't match the movement of horses on their own two feet.

And the one wielding the lighting sword turns his back to them, eyes darting around the forest and looking for any other enemies.

"…Lord Ryoma?" Chrom asks, looking up as the chaos subsides. Robin blinks through the haze, forcing herself to take a steady breath, and feeling the last of the changes melting away. Of Corrin, there's no sign. A shame; she desperately wanted to ask the other girl what one earth had happened to them.

"…We routed them. Shame, we could've used some hostages." The white and red figure stands over them, before slowly turning around.

"…You have a Nohr prisoner with you?" She flinches at the voice; so similar to Chrom, but with a harsher edge to it.

"Not a prisoner. An ally." Chrom tells them, in a tone that allows for no argument. "I've brought my sword to your service… Though I have a condition."

His hand tightens around Robin.

"She helped me fight. So no judgement or imprisonment on her yet, until she proves herself as an enemy." Ryoma sighs from where he stands over them… But he also doesn't draw or turn his blade on Robin.

"…Fair enough. My brother might not appreciate it, but you look like you can handle yourself against him."

"After what we've survived, I hope so." Chrom tells the samurai. And for her part, Robin wants to rasp out why; why Chrom is willing to vouch for her. In answer, he squeezes at her shoulders, and helps to pull her up… And she remembers his promise to her.

That whatever else, he means her no harm.

"And I… Promise to return that trust." She murmurs to Chrom, and finds herself standing beside him. Ready to make the journey to the old capital, and whatever lays beyond. Whatever else, she won't be facing it alone.


	20. Single Parents

Robin is ready to swear of amusement parks forever; she can always stay sequestered in her home or her library for the rest of her life. She keeps building on those promises, ready to never step outdoors if she has to… Provided that she can just find Morgan.

It was just a moment that she took her eyes off her son, telling him to wait a moment while she got some sort of strange violet-pink sugary cloud candy for them to share. And when she looked back, he'd vanished. She still isn't sure how she's kept a hold on the treat; maybe in the desperate hope that she'll find him in another breath, that he'll remember he wanted a snack and dart back to her side.

She scans the crowd, looking for her son, hoping she'll see him around knee or hip height. But there's no sign of Morgan's dark hair, or his favorite violet hoodie.

"Come on…" She whispers, still desperately looking. And trying not to panic, as the moments stretch out. The setting sun shines in her eyes, dazzling her vision and making things all the harder to see.

When someone bumps into her hip, she almost drops the candy, as she jolts to the figure. They only come up to her waist, and for a second she's certain she's found Morgan and can breathe easy again-

But she realizes quick enough that Morgan never grew his hair out to the length. Or opted for so much blue in his appearance. However, she does recognize the child at her side. Robin has seen her often enough at work, and has memorized the name on the child's library card.

"L-Lucina-?" She finds herself saying, right as the girl stares up at Robin. The girl places her face as well and loses some of the panic in her eyes.

"You're… The librarian lady." Lucina says, matter of fact and with a touch of relief. "Dad keeps going to you when he needs help finding a book for me."

Robin nods at that , even with the urgency of the situation. Lucina gives a quick smile, and it's enough to make her heart melt a little; she remembers seeing the girl in her library, often once a week. Always ready for new books to read, always asking if Robin has any new stories about knights and dragons. The girl is an avid reader, something Robin finds herself respecting. But that memory also makes her scan the crowds, looking for her father.

And yet, in the crowds of people, she can't find a familiar blue-haired head, or any strong features. And with the man's height, he should be easy to pick out in a crowd. Lucina doesn't have any luck either, glancing around, and shivering up against Robin's side.

"Wait… Are you lost?" Robin finds herself asking, when she fails to find a familiar blue haired head. Lucina gives a quick nod, her eyes downcast, and for the first time Robin notices that they're red and puffy at the edges; a sign she's been crying.

Lucina tries to put on a brave face… But Robin can tell that there's some fear behind her eyes. The poor girl has lost her father in the chaos, and Robin isn't about to leave her alone in a crowd of strangers. She still worries for Morgan… But there is another child in front of her right now, needing help.

"Well… Maybe we can find him." If he's anything like Robin, her father is likely going half crazy from worry.

-o-o-o-

Chrom is about to lose his mind, if he can't find his daughter. His heart hammers a fast beat, urging Chrom to hurry and shove his way through the crowds, ignoring any dirty looks he gets. He dodges in and out of the long shadows formed by the rides and stalls, hoping he'll spot a glimpse of blue hair.

"Luci!?" He calls out, but with no response. Just moments ago his daughter had been running on ahead, seeing something and getting lost in the crowd.

' _Coming here might have been a mistake.'_ He has time to think, as he desperately searches. And with each breath, he's more convinced this whole thing is a bad idea. Even if Lucina HAD been a ball of energy and smiles, eager to go to her first amusement park.

But in another breath he sees someone around her height, slumped against one of the benches. Chrom goes running for them, hoping he's found Lucina-

He finds himself staring down at a young boy, head buried in his hands and trying to take deep breaths. The child jolts up with a start, as Chrom draws close… And there's something familiar to the boy's face.

"M-Morgan?" A name gets blurted out, as Chrom recognizes the face; he's seen it in his classes often enough, alongside his daughter.

"Mister Chrom?" Morgan blinked at him in confusion. Looking almost like he'd found a fish swimming above water.

"Guess you weren't expecting to see me here." Chrom tries, seeing if he can get Morgan to open up a little. Or at least keep him from slipping back into sobs; whatever got this child into such a fit, he isn't sure. The boy's mother has always been sweet natured, whenever they've met. And the father-

'… _Right. She said that she was a single parent.'_ Much like him, in that regard.

"I-I thought teachers didn't go to amusement parks. That they just sat at their desks really still until we came back." Chrom coughs out a laugh at that.

"No, sometimes we need to have a little bit of fun… Through right now, I'm trying to find my daughter." He gestures to the crowds around him.

"And I'm trying to find my mother." Morgan glances away, a guilty look flashing across his face; it's something Chrom is well familiar with. He's seen that same expression on Lucina, when she tries to raise turtles in the bathtub, or uses a baseball bat like a sword indoors. "I… Sorta saw a ride close by, and I wanted to take a look at it. I lost sight of my mom-"

He hiccups at that. And Chrom knows he can't turn his back on the boy.

"Well, where's the last spot you saw her?"

"Near the cotton candy stall?" Morgan offers, and Chrom reaches out his hand to Morgan.

"Come on then; two pairs of eyes are better than one." Chrom encourages him, and manages to get Morgan off of the bench. Maybe it's just that he's already a teacher, and an authority figure, but he's relieved Morgan trusts him well enough. He's also surprisingly calm, sticking close to Chrom as they move away from the bench.

-o-o-o-

Lucina makes for a restless child, pulling Robin by the arm from place to place, telling Robin about how she's seen Chrom at the places before. Robin has the feeling that he's already frantically looking for his daughter, and isn't about to stay in one place.

That might be dawning on Lucina, with how she gets more and more desperate. She runs from a rollercoaster ride to a hotdog stand and then to almost yanks Robin's arm out, as she dashes to a set of picnic tables. Through it all Robin can hear a sob in her breath as she desperately retraces her steps. All without ever finding her father.

Robin can imagine her own son, red cheeked and sniffling, in a similar state. It sends a stab through her… But Robin still forces herself to focus on the child she DOES have nearby.

' _One problem at a time.'_

"Is there anywhere that he told you to meet him, maybe-?" Robin tries.

Lucina rubs at her eyes in response, trying to choke back her whimpers long enough to speak.

"The… The carousel? Lucina tries, looking around for the attraction. Robin, thanks to the height advantage, can pick it out the striped, spinning tent top more easily. She turns Lucina around… And wonders at the way child readily latches onto her coat.

It makes her heart sink a little, that she's the most familiar thing Lucina has.

' _She never seems to have a mother around.'_ Her memory reminds Robin.

She forces herself to move, hoping that maybe Chrom will be at the carousel, and Lucina can stop trying to put on a brave face. They draw closer, and Robin catches hints of chiming music.

The carousel boasts all sorts of fantastical creatures; pegasi, wyverns, even gryphons bob up and down, brilliantly painted. Lucina even risks a glance up at them, gasping a little at the sight.

"…Dad was going to take me on this." Lucina mutters into Robin's coat. And then, "Do you… Do you think that maybe we could…?"

She hates seeing that hopeful look, and knowing she needs to be practical. It's not like they're going to find Chrom onboard the carousel.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea…" She starts to say, already hating the prospect of saying no.

A part of her insists that they should keep looking for Chrom, and for Morgan. But another part of her wants to keep Lucina from crying any further. Robin finds herself helpless, when Lucina gives her a hopeful look. She tries to avoid looking at the girl when telling her 'no.' Instead she glances up to the carousel-

And for a split second, thinks she sees Morgan on it. Robin pulls Lucina towards the ride, and the girl quickly falls into step, almost racing her. Among the fantastical creatures, Robin almost catches sight of her own child; his dark hair and violet hood slip behind the leafy wings of a carved dragon, and the carousel lurches to a start.

She almost loses her balance, and Lucina crashes into her. Thinking fast, Robin grabs Lucina and hoists her onto something she can cling onto. Missing the urgency of the situation, Lucina giggles the entire time, clinging onto a pastel barded pegasus.

Robin just keeps her hand on the carousel ride, desperately searching for Morgan. And when her eyes find the carved dragon again, her heart sinks. Because the child on it isn't Morgan, just a boy with lighter hair and dark clothing.

She slumps against the ride with a frustrated sigh, looking over the carved horse. Lucina bounces up and down the saddle witch excitement.

' _Well, at least one person is happy.'_ Robin thinks, as she runs her fingers over the carved mane. She can't help but notice she accidentally picked out the ride with a unicorn horn, and Lucina grins when she sees that as well.

"She's the magic one." Lucina says, matter of fact. After a moment of thought, Robin takes the pegasus alongside Lucina, one surprisingly jet black compared to many of the others. Lucina grins in response, enjoying the contrast. For her part, Robin doesn't want to fall over as she gets a full circle scan of the crowd.

The ride picks up the pace, Lucina laughing and swinging her legs. Robin tries to watch the crowd as they ride… But her eyes keeps going back to Lucina, half worried the child might vanish as well. Though Robin wonders if it's also because Lucina's smile has a way of being captivating, and lifting Robin's own spirits. Small wonder her father spoils her so.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself." Robin can't help but say, and Lucina eagerly nods.

"It's like in the story my dad always reads me."

"The Falcon Knight." Robin names the book in a heartbeat. It makes sense, as she's certain Chrom checks it out every other week; why he bothers to keep getting the book from her library instead of buying a copy, she isn't sure. But it does make for another constant. "The one about the princess and the… Whatever you call that."

"Alicorn." Lucina says sagely, and only slightly put out that Robin doesn't know the proper name.

"Ah, right. Alicorn." With how Lucina smiles, she can imagine that reading that book is likely a weekly ritual between the two. Lucina softly hums along to the carousel melody, petting her horse's main, and even leaning forward in the saddle to tap on the horn. At Robin's inquisitive look, Lucina shakes her head; like what she's doing SHOULD be common knowledge.

"You make a wish, if you stay on one of these the entire ride." She explains, in perfect child-logic.

"Can I ask what you wished for?"

"N-not exactly, or it won't come true. But… I made a wish for you." Lucina gives Robin a careful look, and Robin finds herself nodding. When the ride finally slows, Robin helps Lucina back down from the saddle. She gives the unicorn a discreet pat as well, and makes a wish of her own that she can find the girl's father, before the day is finished.

-o-o-o-

Any searches for parents and children are cut short, when Morgan's stomach starts growling. Morgan gives a mumbled apology, but there's still a pleading in his eyes, asking if they can stop for something to eat. Chrom's answer is steering Morgan the corndog stand.

He has a hard time keeping up with Morgan, who inhales his snack in record time.

"Healthy appetite." He says.

"Mom and I get these once a week. Usually at… 'leven, I think." Remarkably precise of her, Chrom thinks. But it's not a bad thing to be a stickler when it comes to feeding a child. Morgan starts to wipe his mouth off using his hand, stops midmotion, and then turns to stretch out his fingers to Chrom, pointing to the napkins. Chrom quickly obliges, and even bends down to wipe Morgan's face off for good measure; it also means cleaning off some of those tears and a slightly runny nose, as well.

"Feeling better?" He asks, and Morgan gives a shy nod.

"…You think Mom's going to be angry?"

"If she's anything like me, she'll be relieved that you're safe." Chrom tells him. "Though she might keep you tied to her hip for a few days afterwards."

Morgan makes a face at that, and Chrom can't help but laugh. It eases some of his own tension out of his chest.

"Don't worry; when we find her, I'll put in a good word for you. That you were on your best behavior, and kept looking for her… With just a small break." With that he raises his head and scans the crowd again, only to frown. He's seen Robin a dozen times in the library. Even among the mazelike corridors of books, her white hair is easy enough to pick out.

But he's not about to give up, or call off the search. There's also one last meeting place they can try. He only hopes Lucina remembers his instructions, on what to do if she got lost and couldn't find him. So he takes Morgan by the hand, and guides him towards one last attraction.

-o-o-o-

' _Gods, but I hope he's okay. That he's just hiding in a fun house, or…'_ Robin tries not to think about the other possibilities, the countless ways Morgan could be hurt or in trouble. And she feels like kicking herself, for not reiterating their contingency plan when they go to parks.

"What about the Ferris wheel?" Lucina cuts into Robin's thoughts. She glances over to the girl; Lucina seems to have gotten an extra burst of energy after splitting the cotton candy, and it sends her tugging against Robin and fixing her eyes to a new landmark.

The Ferris wheel is a riot of color, and in the fading light, a beacon of glowing bulbs.

Robin wants to appreciate it… But she also worries at the dimming of the sunlight. Her task to find Morgan is going to be a lot harder.

' _If you're lucky, maybe he'll go for the wheel as well.'_ It WAS the largest and brightest thing in the park, after all. And Robin kicks herself a little for not thinking of that, or for making little more than a small meet up plan if they got separated.

' _Telling him to head for the nearest landmark wasn't the best plan.'_ She berates herself, considering how many attractions there are; from what she'd read, she always thought carnivals were supposed to be smaller things-

"Come on, come on!" Lucina pulls at her, before Robin can get too caught up in her thoughts. "I know they'll be there!"

Secret or not, Robin keeps getting a clearer idea on the details behind Lucina's wish. She lets the girl guide her through the crowds, straight for the entrance of the wheel… And has to watch Lucina's face fall, as she glances around. Robin feels a similar heaviness build in her heart, and forces herself to take a deep breath. She'll do Lucina no good, if she starts crying in frustration.

"I-I don't get it. My father said to meet him here…" Lucina whispers… And then a decisive light settles into her eyes, and she breaks away from Robin, racing straight for the wheel itself. One of the gondolas is swinging down, violet lights winking to life on it.

"LUCINA!" Robin raises her voice, but it does nothing to slow her. Robin has little choice but to give chase, cursing under her breath and ducking amongst those in line. She could feel her skin crawl with the glares she gets, jumping past the places.

"Sorry, sorry, look I NEED to catch her-" She says as she pushes her way through. But she can't quite reach Lucina, before the girl has slipped under the attendant. Robin had to blow past the poor staff member, throwing herself into the car after Lucina.

"Wh-what on earth are you doing!?" She demanded… And after the mad dash was done, Lucina flinches a little.

"I thought… Maybe I can find Dad and Morgan from up here." Robin sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Lucina makes for a handful, and hard to keep up with; how Chrom manages it, she doesn't know.

"We're going to need to make a lot of apologies, you know. You can't just rush your way into a ride like this-" But right as she says that, someone else proves her wrong, and barrels into the car.

-o-o-o-

Chrom yanks his head up as they draw close to the Ferris wheel… Because he's just heard his daughter's name, shouted out. He looks up in time to see a familiar figure, darting past the adults and children in line towards the ride.

"Luci-!?" He chokes out. There's another figure running after her, yelling her name. And Morgan notices her too, giving a startled noise. Chrom gets just a moment to stare at the two… And then on the next moment, Chrom scoops Morgan up so he can run after both girls at full tilt. Morgan doesn't have time to give much more than a startled gasp, before Chrom slings him under his arm.

It's easy enough to chase after the two and follow their footsteps. He bulls through the gaps in the crowd, running for the Ferris Wheel. He gives a quick curse as Lucina darts into the first wheel cabin she can reach, and throws on one last burst of speed that makes his lungs burn. He all but throws himself into the gondola, as the door automatically slides shut and the ride starts up.

And once that happens, the best Chrom can do is let go of Morgan, and lay gasping on the floor.

"…F-Father!?" Lucina asks over his pounding heart. Chrom's answer is to roll over a little, staring up at his daughter.

"Wh-when I s-said wait at the Ferris Wheel, I really did mean WAIT. Just stay in one spot that isn't a ride." He wheezes out… But can't help but reach up and pat Lucina on the head. She gives a quick grin in answer.

"Well, it DID mean I found you." She points out, still a bit cheeky. Chrom manages a quick groan, tilting his head over to apologize to the other adult.

"Sorry about my daughter being such a handful-?" He says, and finds himself staring right up at a familiar face. "R-Robin?"

There's no mistaking that pale hair. Morgan has figured it out at the same time, clambering over Chrom's prone form as he latches onto her with a quick "Mom!"

Robin wraps her arms around Morgan, giving a shaky laugh.

"Were you with Chrom this entire time…?" She grasps the situation quick enough, as Morgan babbles about how he and his teacher stopped to get corndogs. Lucina takes that as a cue to do the same, telling Chrom about her time with Robin. Somehow, he manages to piece together a rough sequence of events as he pulls himself back up… With a little help from Robin, grabbing onto his hand and giving it a quick, grateful squeeze.

Chrom gives her a nervous smile, as he gets pulled into the seat. Below, he can see the fair stretching out below him. And a part of him thinks that while today might have been chaotic, it hadn't been too bad. He glances over to see Morgan and Lucina swapping stories now, like they're sharing secrets right before class.

"So… I'm guessing you had a full day with her?" He asks Robin. "Sorry if she was a handful."

"Not at all." Robin grins at him. "She had a lot to tell me about her favorite books, and making wishes."

"Likewise. Morgan was pretty sweet natured." He leans back against the seats, finally getting his breath back. Doing so leans him a little against Robin, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"Not a bad day, I hope?" Chrom asks.

"It ended pretty well." Robin says. "All things considered, we're both pretty lucky."

She looks at Morgan, looking half like she wants to scold him and scoop him up in a hug at the same time. Chrom can share that feeling. But as she watches the two children, Robin's expression softens.

"And… You know, I'm not opposed to trying to go to the fair again sometime. Maybe with someone else around to help wrangle Morgan…" She flushes a light pink in the flickering bulbs. "…And I wouldn't say no, to spending more time with you and Lucina."

Chrom grins a little as well, knowing he looks like a bit of a dope.

"I wouldn't mind either; and if today was any indicator, it might be a bit nice." Maybe better than nice, given how relaxed he feels, watching the fair below, and the two children settle in alongside him and Robin.


	21. Professional Rivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also contains trace elements of Ace Combat.

Chrom falls, and the skies burn around him. Mage fire singes the air, and bites at his lungs when he breathes in. The winds snap at his face and draw tears from his eyes, even as he plunges through clouds. His wyvern gives a pained hiss, fighting to fly again… But he can see the singe marks on the wings, and his stomach seems to fall even faster than the rest of him; he already knows that Beruka won't have the strength or wingspan to fly.

At least not while he's still a solid weight in the saddle.

' _If I'm going to die… I don't want her falling along with me.'_

The last seconds of combat flash through his mind, as he fights with the straps and barding. The sky had started clear and deep blue, with only a few specks dotting the horizon. Some of them were snowy white with hints of feathers, others the leathery black of wyvern wings.

Such bright pegasus feathers had no business looking so hostile, or feel like they were defiling the sky. But he still felt a jolt of adrenaline and rage rush through him. The volant axes rattled at his side, eager to be used, while Beruka pulsed with frantic energy. He gave a signal to the wyvern, tapping his heels to her ribs, and she lunged forward. Ready to fight, ready to win back the skies.

He wonders how many were felled, before he was cut apart in turn. There's four axes missing from his saddle, and he's certain all of those hit home. Not a bad sortie… But not the sort of thing he'd want as his last stand, either. He risks a glance down, and sees the ground rushing to meet him. The green bowl of the valley is no longer a beautiful sight, and instead looks hard and unforgiving. Even now, he can see flecks of red in the trees; either the early colors of fall, or splashes of blood.

There'd also been quick gouts of blood staining the sky, as they clashed with Plegian pegasus and wyvern riders. Beruka laid in with tooth and claw, diving out of the air to slash at wings, while Chrom followed up with axe strikes. They'd all but danced through the skies, uncontested… Until a black smear dodged past his sight. He caught the feathers of a black pegasus, and knew he was looking at a dark flier.

A second later, crackles of lightning shot past Beruka as Chrom furiously turned the wyvern. The scaley wings barely dipped down in time, and Chrom ducked his head before the spell could spear through him. That blast of magic told Chrom that he was facing The Witch, on top of everything else. Plegia's best flier. But he hadn't fled; instead, turning Beruka to chase and try to close, determined that this time they'd clash… And only one of them would fly free.

' _I just thought it would be me.'_ Chrom thinks, feeling Beruka's sides flutter as the wyvern fights to stay alive, to find some sort of grip on the air currents. As he takes on the main harness, he picks out the scorch marks of lightning. He'd never thought that a pegasus could flare out its wings the way The Witch had; but she'd gotten her pegasus to perfectly catch the wind as Chrom chased her, and vault over him in the span of a breath. In one move she'd reversed their spots, and put him perfectly in her sights. He hadn't a chance to evade, and his skin burned when the lightning struck home.

And now, he falls. To where the ground will shatter him…

…But only him, if he has any say in it. He whispers a brief farewell to Beruka, before yanking away the last catch on the harness. The last buckle gives way, and he falls free from Beruka. The wyvern gives a startled cry as the barding falls away from her as well, mirroring his plunge in a strange metallic rain.

Beruka's startled cry follows him down; he can see her wings just manage to flare out, and catch the wind.

And then, out of the clouds, he sees her. Her pegasus is a black storm cloud, and dives after him. Chrom grimaces; he'd never thought The Witch was the sort who would watch and savor her opponents dying. But still she shadows him, echoing his fall-

A gust of wind slams into him, slowing him for a split second. The Witch lays herself across the neck of her pegasus and dives past him in the pause, and with a start he realizes her lips are moving, chanting the incantation that shapes the wind and keeps him aloft. His shock cuts out a split second later, right as the pegasus moves directly underneath him, and flares its wings. The horn of the saddle drives into his stomach, and he's half convinced he'll have bruised ribs as lightning burns… And yet, he's still alive. The pegasus turns its dive into a blistering strafe along the ground, barely missing the treetops before sending up plumes of water as they race across the lake.

It's only when they arrive at the shore, away from the fighting, that Chrom can gather his breath and roll off the saddle. He can't break his eyes from The Witch, as she moves strands of snowy hair from her face.

"…Why?" He finally manages to gasp out. "Why did you just save me?"

She pauses at his question, as though she isn't certain of the answer, herself. Above them, the sounds of battle gradually fade away.

"Because… It didn't feel right, watching a fellow knight plunge to his death." Chrom rubs at his ears; maybe there's still a left over rumble of thunder stuck in them, making him hear things. He blinks his eyes as well, wondering if they're still dazzled by the lightning. But when his senses come back clear, nothing has changed; and the look The Witch gives him isn't one of hate, or even fear… But rather, a look of respect.

"I… Would sooner not see you die, Exalted."

"Is that what they call me?" He finds himself asking. A surprisingly noble title, considering Plegia.

"Actually, they tend to call you 'That Ylissean Dastard," at least in the commanding circles." Her lip curls in disgust, showing what she thought of those people. "But since they're the same people continuing this useless war… I prefer to go with what the other ace riders call you."

"Th-thank you?" He finds himself saying. And then to his surprise, he adds on more. "Though if you prefer, you could just call me Chrom."

The Witch pauses over that, considering the name. And as she does that, he considers her in turn. This is the first time he's seen her at a standstill, instead of cutting through his own fliers. He's never imagined The Witch looking surprised.

He's always sought her out during the air jousts, and she seemed just as eager to meet him. Always testing the other, learning from what the other did… Until now. And a part of him still can't understand why she doesn't go for a fatal blow.

"R-Robin." She cuts off his thoughts. "My name. My name is Robin."

"Oh." He shuffles uneasily from his place in the dirt. Adrenaline is still coursing through him; maybe that's what makes his tongue so loose. "It's a good name. Th-that is, it suits you."

He's also never imagined Plegia's air ace blushing like that.

"So… What now?" He still half expects her to strike him with lightning… Even if he starts to hesitate over the notion of fighting against her. "Y-you do have me dead, by all rights. You bested me."

"I-I know…" She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for something. "And since that's the case, since you're at my mercy… I hope that means you'll be willing to talk terms."

"Terms-?" He repeats dumbly. Robin simply nods.

"I… Don't feel much loyalty towards my country any longer. Maybe their reasons for starting this war were just… But not in continuing it. Or their actions during that war. I don't wish to make war on civilians, or turn Hinoka into a living bomb."

"They've seriously been considering that?" He recalls the reports; of frontier villages and fortresses seemingly scorched to their foundations, with only the bones of pegasi or wyverns among the ruins, almost like they'd been set ablaze by magic. The gruesome images had given him enough courage and anger both to fight. And yet now-

"Are you… Saying you want to come with me-?" She gives a cautious nod, like she's still afraid he'll object.

"I saw where your wyvern flew off to. And I can likely take you back to your base… But in exchange, I don't want to be shot out of the sky. And given a chance to say my piece, to see if your forces will accept another flyer."

"…If they didn't, I'd be ready to defect, myself. I think we'd have to be mad, not accept someone who can fly like you." Chrom suddenly finds himself saying. And yet, he also feels that has to be true. Because a part of him has already come to respect this woman; she's as fierce as her ace flying title, and yet has the gentleness of true name. He wouldn't want to rob a bird her place in the sky.

Carefully, he reaches up with his hand, to see if she'll accept it, and the truce. Robin squeezes his hand from gratitude. And Chrom finds himself wondering if he should get shot out of the sky more often, if it means he can see her smile like that.


	22. Futuristic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the Mega Man X fusion AU!

Her arm is a mess of sparks and jumbled circuits. Robin can only stare at the damage, and decide it's a lucky thing her limbs have emergency shut downs; otherwise she'd likely be paralyzed from the pain. But instead of getting paralyzed by the loss of one limb, Robin brings her other arm, and the blaster fixed to it, around to the machine.

The ride armor towers over her, a three-ton power armor piloted by a soldier glaring at her through a mechanical mono-eye. Her enemy has already scored the one hit on her, and looks ready to go for another-

But its single eye is focused entirely on her, and not the other hunter dropping from above.

Chrom lashes out, the glow of his saber piercing the gloomy factory. It slices through shadow and circuitry alike, knocking the giant armor and pilot askew. As the machine fights to right itself, Robin has just enough space to follow up with an attack of her own. Robin snaps out her blaster, lets the circuitry in it whine up to a loud charge, before firing off a blast of energy. It crashes into the soldier and armor, leaving a gout of fire and explosions. The only thing left is a charred out husk of machinery.

As she watches it, Robin wonders if she would've looked the same, if either she or her partner had moved a moment slower; no spark of life in her body, just another mechanical husk. She steps over the defeated machine as it spits electricity; in the brief flashes of light, she can see other husks lining the factory; half built or disassembled reploids like them, lacking in only the spark of life.

"Focus, Robin." Chrom steps up beside her. The blues on his armor blend for a moment in her vision, before the lenses in her eyes snap into focus. The faint glow from his hands helps with that, as he passes them over her mangled arm.

Robin has downloaded libraries worth of information to her memory banks; it helps make up for the strange gaps in her personal logs. The best theory she has for Chrom's ability is that he can supercharge any sub tanks he carries, and apply their energy to other people.

"You didn't have to waste that on me, Sir." She mumbles. "I could've kept going-"

"Not worth the risk." Chrom tells her. All the algorithms Robin runs through say otherwise… But there's also a decisive glint in Chrom's eyes that make any theories or arguments fall short. Instead, he runs his hands along her arm, carefully making sure it's been completely mended. Robin gives her fingers an experimental flex, and feels all the silicon chords and wires twitch and move in response. Even the skin analogue covering her arms is getting restored, and hexes of violet armor also eat up the energy and grow one hex at a time over her arm. "And you can call me 'Chrom' you know."

Robin's pretty sure that isn't in her programming, to drop the title like that.

"But still, Sir… What if you need that charge later on-?"

"Well, either way I need my partner at her best, if we're going to take on any rogues."

"Mavericks." Robin supplies the proper term. Chrom winces at that… But still nods, standing up and pulling her up with him. That ride armor was their last bit of resistance in the factory, though they're careful as they pick their way along; Robin dashing forward first, then calling Chrom over, as they do a leapfrog arrangement.

Through it, Robin finds that her eyes linger on Chrom longer than they should.

' _Partner. That's what he called me.'_ They've only been in the field a handful of times, and Chrom thinks of her as that already. It's testament to his… Somehow, the word 'programming' feels like it falls short. But there's a kindness to him that Robin appreciates. A willingness to trust her, after she was found half broken by the peace keeping force, and repaired.

It makes a strange emotion flare through her… Something she can't properly describe yet. 'Loyalty' or 'drive' both feel like they fall short. But there's a desire to improve herself, to be worthy of that gesture, even if her memory is still faulty.

It helps, that whatever virus is tearing through the other androids and reploids hasn't touched her or Chrom. That much is proven when they find their mark. A shutter door slams shut behind them, the only warning they get before a collection of six glowing red lights flicker to life. Things that could be the eyes of another reploid, but this one too far gone.

Robin adjusts the sensors on her own eyes, taking in the figure of a deeply mangled reploid; circuitry and wires drape around them like limbs from a man-of-war, and those still spark with electric currents. Robin expects the face to be inspired by a spider, with all those lights… But instead, she sees that the reploid's face has been twisted, like four new eyes have burst open along the face. Shreds of synthetic skin drape around those red globes, giving the reploid a ravaged appearance.

"M-Maverick." Chrom speaks up, cutting through the odd fear twisting through Robin. "Stand down peacefully-"

That's not part of their protocol, Robin distantly realizes; they're meant to kill Mavericks on sight, not talk terms and conditions of surrender. Not that it matters much to the Maverick, as it throws itself at Chrom with a mad howl.

It's a fast lunge, but Robin moves faster. She's been gathering energy ever since she saw those first glints of red light, and now she's ready to fire, full force. Her shot blasts the Maverick back, and leaves Chrom room to cut forward.

After that, it blurs together. A part of Robin worries that her mind doesn't pick out the details very clearly. The rest of her is focused on dodging attacks and blasts, making certain that the Maverick stops moving before she does.

"Robin, it's okay." Chrom's voice finally brings her back… And once more, she finds herself looking at a twisted, mechanical mess. This one is even less recognizable than the ride armor pilot, and a strange violet fire burns along the husk. Her data banks give sparse information on that; just that it's the effect of too much energy and virus surging through the reploid, along with-

"G-get back!" Robin remembers the other effect of that surge, and throws herself into Chrom. Her shoulder checks him and drives him back, well beyond the reach of the explosion when it sparks in the husk. Robin turns her face to the side, sparing her eyes and sensors as the world briefly goes white. There's a few new scrapes and gouges along her body thanks to the fight, and they burn from that flare of energy.

But soon enough, even that last surge of power subsides, leaving them with a burnt out shell, and a smoldering factory.

"…Too far gone." Chrom shakes his head in regret. "The virus was too deeply rooted."

Which means they still don't have any answers, on why some reploids go mad. Just one less Maverick causing chaos. And looking at the blackened chasis, a touch of dread sinks through her again.

"Sir… What happens if something like this happens to-?"

To either of them? It's a chilling thought.

"It won't. Not as long as I'm still functioning." Chrom tells her, amazingly decisive. And what amazes Robin even more, is that she believes him. Even with the worrying odds. And she wonders for a moment, if this is another part of their programming… Or if it even matters if it isn't, and if there's something changing in them.

That should give her fear, make her wonder if it's something that happens to reploids about to go Maverick… But that would mean snuffing out that strange, _hopeful_ sensation sparking through her. And Robin doesn't want that to happen; not when she finally has a name for what she feels around Chrom.

"Robin… You're coming with me, right? We need to report back to headquarters."

"Right behind you, Chrom." She says that without pause… And feels another bright spark in her chest at that, along with a smile.


	23. Arranged Marriage

Robin wants to run. That's not the best mood to have, on the day of her wedding. Not that she has much of a choice, with her wedding dress wrapping around her and tangling all her movements. She's half worried she'll trip over the train of her dress, even if she limits herself to walking.

"Hold your head up. Show an ounce of pride." Validar's voice cuts into her fear, making her flinch into a half trained posture; head up, eyes staring forward. Her father stands before her, looking regal in the ceremonial Plegian garb. There's a fierce light in his eyes, as he wraps his fingers around her shoulders, and turns her towards the doors, leaving her with even less room to Run.

"I…"

"You have a duty, to a pair of countries. AND to Grima." The steel in his voice forces Robin to nod, and swallow back any tears. She doesn't want to do this; she wants to subject the prince of Ylisse to this, even less.

-o-o-o-

"…Do I look alright?" Chrom fidgets in front of the mirror, not quite sure if the Ylissean regalia suits him or not.

"You look FINE, Chrom. Now stop trying to squirm out of your robes and cape. You'll muss up all the fur." Lissa tells him. She works the last of the ornamental jewelry around him, even making sure the diadem sits properly on his head, before leading him out towards the ceremony hall. They take their places in the waiting room off to the side, listening to the slow swell of activity in the main hall; it grows in voices, in music, and in the presence of so many, gathered to see the wedding.

It's only as they stand there, waiting for the occasion to begin, that Lissa gives him a worried glance, betraying some of her own nerves.

"Chrom, you're… Okay with this, right?"

"It's a bit late to be getting cold feet now." He points out. "I think that any chance at renouncing my title and running off to be a sell sword is long over."

"That's not what I meant, you thickhead!" Lissa shoots back, before sobering. "What I mean is… Are you okay with-?"

"An arranged marriage to a Plegian?" Chrom finishes for her. As the music and speeches begin in the hall, he finds that speaking aloud helps to steady him. "Well… I've always accepted that one of us would need to enter into a marriage, to create an alliance. And it might as well be me; Emm's the heir, and… Well, Lissa, to be honest you're a bit young, and I'd probably try to fight anyone thinking he could force you into an arrangement like that."

"Th-thanks? I think?"

"Point is, I'm ready to do my duty, for my country." He just hoped that this Plegian ambassador was ready to do the same. The doors swing open, silencing their conversation, and pulling Chrom into Naga's cathedral.

Ylissean custom is for bride and groom to begin at opposite points in the great cathedral, coming to the altar at the same time and meeting in the middle. It's likely meant to symbolize cooperation and unity… But at the moment, Chrom finds that it mostly gives him a chance to watch the young woman walking the halls. And hoping he isn't staring too hard.

It's a struggle to keep his steps measured, when all he wants to do is rush towards her. There's something about her features, the way she carries herself, that strikes a sudden interest in him. She falters a moment when she sees him… And Chrom tries to give her a smile, knowing it looks a little nervous. It makes her faltering steps resume, and they both come to the meeting point at the altar.

She doesn't meet his eyes, as the priest resides over the ceremony. There's a nervous quality to her posture, a shiver that roots itself in her back and shoulders.

"Hey…" He whispers, in defiance of the formalities and speeches the priest is carrying out. He keeps his voice low, gentle to try and ease the woman across from him. It prompts her to raise her eyes. "I-I'm glad to meet you at last."

It's not the most romantic thing he could say. But it still her shivers, and makes her eyes widen through the veil.

"And do you take Robin, to be your wife? To keep through sickness and health?" His own eyes widen, now that he's been given a name. But he manages to give a nod.

-o-o-o-

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur for Robin… Aside from learning her partner's name, first hand.

' _I'm sorry, Chrom.'_ Is all she can think, even as she says her vows. Because a different set of vows echo in her head; the ones she promised to her father.

' _There's something we need from Ylisse. Something they haven't been willing to give… And you, my dear girl, make for the perfect bargaining piece. You'll enter into their family to feign a peace. And then…'_

Those words haunt her beyond the ceremony, into the dinner. All the food, from the spiced Plegian curries to the carves of roast meat and fine Ylissean pastries… Her stomach is a roil, and her tongue only tastes sand and ashes.

She wants to apologize to Chrom. To tell him that he's been lied to… And yet, she's a coward in even that. Because every time he looks at her, an uncertain smile playing across his lips, and hope showing in his eyes. There's an odd optimism, like he believes they can grow to like each other.

Robin has her doubts… And then there's the dread pooling in her gut, for what comes later tonight. Handsome as he is, she's still full of nerves. The only thing that she can keep down is wine, and so Robin finds herself indulging in that. It might make what comes next a little easier, if she's tipsy and with a fogged head.

At least, that's her plan until another guest comes to their table, to wish the new couple well. And Robin freezes, as Validar stares down his nose at her.

"I do hope you haven't consumed too much. You really need to be aware and ready for your… Duties, tonight." He barely keeps the sneer out of his voice, and she wonders if Chrom notices. He seems to stiffen up at that, frowning at Validar.

"Sir, with all respect… It's her call to make, on whatever happens tonight." Validar sneers at that; he's not a man used to being talked back to, and sees Chrom's words as a challenge.

"Oh? So hesitant to claim your prize?" She flushes bright red at that. Chrom does one better, standing straight up and scrapping his chair across the floor.

"Sir… That's no way to speak of your daughter. She's NOT a prize, nor an object." He glares at Validar.

"She's my daughter, you know. I can speak with her as I please."

"You want me to exercise my duties as a husband?" Chrom shot back. "Then gladly. And I'll thank you, for not speaking to my wife in such a manner."

"Father… That's enough." Her voice comes out oddly hushed… And yet she still raises her head, glaring into his eyes. The wine might cloud her head and flush her face, but it also gives her a sudden jolt of courage… As does feeling Chrom beside her. Her hand brushes against his arm, and the contact makes her hold her head a little higher.

"This man… I've pledged myself to him. And if you won't treat me as…" As human. As an individual. "As- as someone who deserves respect, then you'll at least extend that honor to him."

Validar lets his breath out in an outraged hiss.

"You dare-!?"

"You know father… You're eager to have us see to our tasks, now that we're married." Robin dares to speak back to him, even as she's terrified he might lash out at her. His hands ball into fists. "So we'll see to that. If you'll kindly leave us-"

His hand flashes up, cracking across her face.

Before, when he struck her, Robin would slink back. Instead, she stands her ground, glares at him… And notices how the wineglass is still half full. She snatches it up, and splashes the contents straight into Validar's face. He looks a lot better in red, a part of her sardonically notes, as he backs away with an anguished cry and his eyes stinging.

Chrom grabs Robin by the shoulder, spinning her away from Validar. Escorts sweep around Validar, right as his father realizes that he's been goaded into an attack… On someone who is now an honorary Ylissean citizen.

"Take him away?" Chrom asks Robin. Robin freezes for a moment, as Validar blinks wine from his eyes; he glares straight into her eyes, trying to stare her down into silence. A part of Robin wants to shrink away again, like she always has… But now, she has Chrom standing at her back.

"…Yes." It's barely a whisper that comes out, but it's still enough. Validar is pulled away, even as he spits curses. They all wash past Robin, as she finds herself turning her back on Validar, focusing instead on Chrom.

-o-o-o-

"…So that was your father." Chrom grumbles, leading Robin away from the banquet. Thankfully after their confrontation, the rest of the party leaves them alone. Letting them recover.

"Not… The best first impression, I know." Robin says as they walk; she's been remarkably docile, with letting Chrom lead her up the stairs to a more remote area. Hopefully to a place where they can talk more in earnest, between just the two of themselves.

' _Where you can hopefully get to know her better.'_

His new spouse has kept her lips shut, all through their journey. And her eyes stay downcast, ignoring the elaborate carvings. It makes him worry she sees him as another oppressor. And that in turn drives him to say something, anything, that might dispel the silence.

"You don't take after him at all." Chrom says, before he can stop himself. "S-sorry! I shouldn't have been so-"

"…Honest?" Robin counters, and even gives him a sardonic smile. "Believe me, I thank the gods on a daily basis, that I turned out differently." He can't keep himself from chuckling at that. Seeing Robin open up makes him grin as well, and he keeps his touch gentle as he leads her upwards-

But she freezes, when she realizes they're about to cross the threshold, into their rooms.

"W-wait, I…"

"I was telling the truth." He cuts her off. "It's your call to make, when we… Well…" He wishes he's not going so red in the face. Chrom knows for a fact that looking like a tomato doesn't flatter him. "C-consummate any relationships. Honestly. It's enough that we don't hate each other… Right?"

"R-right…" Robin whispers, giving him a shocked look and stepping into the bed chambers. She still holds her place in the bedroom, like she's drawing her strength for something.

"Chrom… I… I realize we were thrown together. And that my father had his own ideas on what this union would mean, but… I don't want to be beholden to them!" She blurts out the last. "I don't want to steal any Emblems, or-!"

It's the wine speaking, Chrom knows. Robin realizes that as well, a second too late, as she claps her hands over her mouth.

"Oh gods…" She whispers. "I-I didn't mean to say-"

Chrom, for his part, doesn't trust his own words. Instead, he strides forward, thankful that Robin is getting into the habit of standing her ground. It gives him room to catch her hands up in his, and give them a quick squeeze. Trying to tell her that it's okay.

Robin stares at his hands, like she's never had her fingers gently clasped… Or like she was expecting another strike, instead of such an intimate gesture.

"I-I thought for certain you'd-"

"Reject you, on that? I… Don't like rushing to conclusions. Or stop trusting someone who I'm already growing to like. Though, I know you're not entirely, well… Sober." Her red cheeks get a long stare.

"…Rejection was the most positive outcome I could think of." Robin tells him, going all the more red in the face. "My father… Made sure to tell me about what Ylisseans do, to Plegian traitors and criminals. I'm certain that if someone is complacent in a plan to steal a royal treasure, that makes them guilty-"

He tightens his grip on her hands, stilling her words.

"…I'm NOT going to throw my partner in the dungeons."

"Too much of a scandal?"

"It's not what I'd do, to a member of my family." He corrects her… And feels shock shoot through Robin's muscles. "You ARE a part of the family now, and a citizen of Ylisse. Which makes any insult your father might deliver, an insult to the crown in turn."

Even through a wine fogged head, he can see her mind furiously working together the pieces; realizing that she might finally be out from underneath her father's shadow.

"You said… That I'm a part of your family now?"

"Y-yes." Chrom wonders, in the back of his head, if the feast wine is making him a bit bold in turn. The entire situation still feels surreal, like he's sleepwalking through a dream.

Even more surreal, is that he's still not entirely sure he wants to wake up.

"Speaking of… I should probably warn you about Lissa. She'll probably try to sneak a frog into your nightgown at one point, and then the following morning pester you about going on a picnic with her. And Emmeryn, well… She's poised and serene, but sometimes maddeningly so…"

And just like that, he finds himself telling her all about his siblings, about his late father and the strained relationships. That in turn seems to help Robin open up, and she tells him a little about her home; how even the warmest Ylissean days don't compare to life out in the Plegian desert, that she misses the spiced foods but loves the Ylissean sweets… And that she finds herself intrigued by his homeland.

Strange, how he feels the same about her. They could spend an entire night sharing stories… But eventually, wine and weight from the busy day conspire against them. Robin breaks off telling him about hawking amongst the dunes, giving a long yawn.

"We can talk more in the morning?" He offers, already relaxing into the couch. "Feel free to take the bed-"

He trails off, as Robin catches him by the wrist. She's learned from his grip, with how she gently runs her thumbs over his knuckles, and tugs him towards her.

"I'd like to return some of that trust you've given me, too." Robin murmurs. She meets him eye to eye this time, and seems to grow more comfortable looking at him with each passing minute.

"And… I could start with that trust, by being okay with sharing a bed with you. Provided you're… Comfortable with that." She whispers. He finds himself nodding, and gets rewarded with a soft smile.

It's remarkably easy to curl into the sheets with her. At first he hesitates with wrapping his arms around her, but her touch, tracing along his shoulders and limbs, coaxes him to reach out for her. Chrom finds his breathing settles, when Robin settles into his grip.

"You know… I should give you a vow of my own." Robin murmurs to him. "That no matter what my father may have intended… I'll entrust my loyalties to you now; in exchange for you trust and… And the dignity you grant me." He gets the feeling its more than her father ever offered her. Robin brushes her head against him as she speaks, almost like the kiss they'd shared at the alter. This time the touch lingers. "I won't run from this, and stay beside you. So… Whatever we may face, I'll be as steady as a sword at your side."

"And I'll try to be worthy of that trust." Chrom tells her in turn. And hope that this spark between them might grow into something more. With her resting against him, slowly drifting off and looking serene as she sleeps, he finds he can believe in that.


	24. Private Detectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A micro AU, loosely inspired by Devil Summoner!

"Is this how you ALWAYS solve cases?" Robin asks, standing over Chrom. He's not able to answer all at once, busy with bleeding on the couch. The bullet and knife wounds are clear along his sides, from where he'd faced kidnappers and shielded Robin. The wounds, even with supernatural healing and toughness, still look bad. Robin can only shake her head, and making a small tsking noise. She lets her eyes blur, and her focus slip inwards, calling to the monster inside.

"I apologize; Samael isn't much of a healer." She tells him, letting the crimson serpent uncoil from her. For a moment she can see a contract of symbols blaze in front of her eyes, a reminder of the agreement between her and the demon. And for now, the contract once again holds, a reminder that she's bested the beast, and it recognizes her power… And is willing to heal, when she asks it of the demon.

Chrom gives a quick, pained grunt, as the worst of his bleeding is staunched. The wounds close up, leaving raw looking pink tissue in their place.

"This is going to leave scars." Robin warns him. Chrom only grits his teeth, and nods. When the healing spell fades away, he breathes a little easier, and gathers the strength to speak.

"Thanks… And no, this isn't always how I solve cases. Usually Cerberus can sniff out some clues, lead me on the right track… And I get to find missing people or items, get out before any culprits notice me, and avoid bleeding in a shootout. Most of the time." Robin can only shake her head, and carefully run her hands over him, making sure Samael didn't miss any wounds.

"Though… I'm glad you took this case as well. I wouldn't have lasted long without another demon to fight those kidnappers... And I owe you for that."

"Maybe you can take me out for drinks at Parabellum, as a thank you." Chrom gives a quick, if pained grin, and sinks into the cushions a little further.

"Sure… Though Lissa might still have my hide, for this. And for dragging you into trouble."

"L-Lissa?" Robin blinks; that's the same client that hired her for this case, to find a missing person.

"You know her? She's my sister…" Chrom trails off as Robin explains; that Lissa had pulled some strings to go looking for her; one of the few independent devil summoners and detectives… And one feeling a little strapped for cash.

"She offered me a lot of money, in exchange for looking into the kidnapping case." And to be fair, they'd found the kidnapped friend of hers. It had just led them to a crime ring as well, none of them too willing to give Maribelle up without a fight. "I took it because… Well, I needed the money. And because she looked desperate."

"She gave me that same desperate look. I couldn't possibly turn her down, even she wasn't my sister." Says Chrom. "But… I was pretty sure I could handle things myself. Apparently she thought otherwise. And she was right about that, too."

He takes a handful of bandages, swabbing them over his wounds as he glances around the room. And Robin tries not to flush, as he takes in her office. There's dust gathering in the corners, plus a few cobwebs lining the windows, ceiling, and fan. And she's pretty sure that sandwich she left on the table has long since gotten stale, and she probably should've thrown it out before going on the case. The one thing she ISN'T feeling a bit self conscious about, is that her case files are at least all in order.

' _And at least you helped him out of a tight spot. You held yourself pretty well with gathering clues, and piecing all the witness reports together. He's got to count that in your favor… Though I have to wonder on how much his opinion matters.'_

"Still…" She murmurs, trying to get his attention back on her. "It's likely a good thing you were there. Samael is good at spell slinging at other demons, not so much when there's five guns training on me."

He'd charged in, right as Robin's investigation went wrong; he'd practically been the cavalry all on its own, summoning his own demon and laying into the gunmen, heedless of all the shots he took as Robin went to save the hostage.

"I just hope I don't need to take a hail of gunfire every time, to impress you- I-I mean, to complete a case!" Chrom changes his words around at the last minute.

"You don't, but what do you mean, every time…?"

"It's just… I think we made a pretty good team together?" Chrom offers, sitting up a little straighter. "And… I wouldn't mind working together in the future. It'd land you more jobs, and I've been trying to find my feet away from the Ylisstol Detective Agency. I was thinking we could help each other, and… It could work out. Maybe?"

He lowers his eyes, and it seems like he's fighting a blush down; likely due to all the blood he's lost, not wanting to have too much of it rush to his head.

"That might have been why Lissa insisted we both take this case, to save her friend AND introduce us. I forget how devious she can be sometimes." Robin looks at him, considering how they met. Their first introduction hadn't been the best, both of them scrambling to find clues and not certain what the other's intentions had been. But she'd been forced to admit that Chrom had a bit more charisma in getting the witnesses to talk… Even if he'd then shown a bad habit, of rushing off on his own to confront the kidnappers. "O-of course, you don't have to feel pressured, if you'd rather remain independent and I just invite you out for drinks and-"

"Chrom." She cuts him off. "You might notice that I didn't say no. But… I also wouldn't mind going out, to make the agreement official." She feels a little mischievous when she adds that on; and yet, Chrom takes it well enough. And she decides that he cuts a decent enough figure, when he's no longer bleeding out on her couch and grinning at her instead.


	25. Circus

In the few books Robin has been given to read, people usually run away from their homes to join circuses. And all she can think is, the writers got everything horribly backwards; she'd shear off her wings and gladly slip past the bars of her cage if it meant she could get out of this life, and trade it for something boring and normal.

Not that the opportunity has ever presented itself. The gilded bars might be beautiful to look at, but she can barely fit her arm through them. And her father takes pains to make sure anything sharp, anything that could serve as a blade, a bludgeon, or a lockpick, is kept well away from Robin.

He walks by her now, looking immaculate as usual.

"We're stopping through the capital of Ylisse." Validar tells her, without looking at her. Instead he carefully adjusts the gloves and cuffs of his suit; a tasteful black and violet striped arrangement, that echoes the coloring found among her feathers. "A good place to find other candidates."

Others like her. Robin hangs her head at that… Only for her father to slip his hands through the bars, and force her head back up. It isn't to establish eye contact, but to examine her. Robin tries not to squirm under his gaze, knowing she's done the best she can, with the few objects and tools allowed to her. She's already learned that neglecting her appearance makes things worse for her; as the central attraction, she's meant to be eye catching, even while she looks freakish.

' _Like a dark mirror, entrancing all who gaze on you.'_ Her father had told her, while instructing his underlings to forcefully yank out the knots in her hair, and clean her feathers. Their touch hadn't been gentle.

But right now, she seems to satisfy him. Validar gives a curt nod, before leaving her in her gilded cage and dropping the drapes around the structure. Robin simply lays down, and watches the fabric rustle over the elaborate metal and filigree. Soon enough she'll be called on to perform, Validar's prize caged bird.

-o-o-o-

The moment comes quick enough. As the fabric lifts up, light and gasps from onlookers stream through the bars.

Robin forces herself up, and takes a deep breath. She knows this song by heart; first sung to her by a woman that had to have been her mother, voice as gentle and soothing as the gray waves in the lullaby.

She only has flashes of memory about the singer. First, memories gentle hands soothing her hair. Then those hands growing shaky, days, months, or years later, when they found the feathers sprouting from her back. Splotches of blood staining the fingers and arms as her father yanks her away, heedless of the way either women cry and scream-

Her breathing hitches for a split second. And Robin decides it's a lucky thing her memory is so patchwork. Validar only has so much patience, and a broken songbird would do no wonders for his temper.

But even with the sob she has to swallow, her singing still finishes. Only silence lurks beyond it, and Robin risks opening her eyes. A packed tent looks back at her, filled to the brim; just like with her father, she refuses to squirm under such scrutiny. The mage lights shift overhead, letting the thin, glitter-like scales on her flesh shimmer and ripple.

With how her father has talked about Ylisse, she expects hisses and screams, a seething crowd ready to decry her as an abomination. And she can see the beginnings of disgust among some faces, but it hasn't boiled over into violent rage just yet. She doesn't dwell on those faces, looking for others. This is another part of her performance, and her duties; to see if there's a spark of arcane among those in the audience. Magic calls to magic, even if many of the observers haven't expressed it yet-

She sees a strange glow of an aura for an instant, like a flame burning so hot it turns to white and blue. When she blinks, that glow turns into two blue eyes on the face of a young man, watching her intently. Robin holds his gaze for only a moment, then drops her eyes. It's equal parts training… And an odd shame curling through her gut, with how he looks at her.

-o-o-o-

Even when the cloth is dropped back over the cage, Chrom stares at it until it vanishes into the deeper shadows of the ring. And even then, he still tries to pick out the outline of the tarp, or a glint on the golden bars.

He still can't believe what he's seen.

"…I… I wasn't expecting THAT." His sister whispers at his side. Chrom can only nod, wondering if sneaking her out of the castle was such a brilliant or bold idea after all. "I thought it'd just be a performer, dressed up. Not a-"

"A blessed halfblood." He's heard stories of them; and then there's the slight flashes of power he's seen from Sumia when she levitates an object, or Sully when she runs a mile without breaking a sweat. Impressive as they've been, they don't compare to the legends. And now he's seen what Sumia's books describe; creatures with a glint of Naga's divine power in them, or one of the other dragons. That creature in the cage has the look of a strange, half-dragon; great black wings that almost dwarf her body, violet scales, a hint of claws flashing on her fingers, and a sinuous tail winding down her body-

…And an outfit that left very little to the imagination. NOW he can feel the beginnings of heat dance across his face, remembering the light, gossamer fabric draped over her; little more than a dark veil, with a few ribbons to hold it in place.

He can't get the image of her out of his head, and half wants to chew himself out over it.

"She was stunning." Lissa murmurs, even as the tumblers and jugglers take the stage, and more mundane mages perform flashy displays that draw cries from the rest of the crowd.

"Y-yeah." Chrom finds himself saying. Beyond her appearance, and that strange song lodged in his head, there's something else that sticks in his mind. "I… Wish she wasn't in so much pain, though."

"…Pain?"

"Didn't you hear it? The way her voice halted." Chrom almost wonders if he's imagined it… But the image of her throat catching, of a faint glimmer in her eyes stays with him. And it keeps his feet rooted to the stands, even once the main show is done, and the audience streams out of the tent.

"Chrom?" Lissa presses, and he shakes his head.

"Lissa, you remember how to sneak back into the castle?" At her nod, he says "then go on ahead. I'll catch up in a little while… But there's something I need to look into, first."

-o-o-o-

Other halfbreeds and changelings come and go, but Robin remains. She also knows what becomes of the others, much as she tries to forget. Some of them become full-fledged monsters, driven mad by captivity. There's some nights where she feels all the cracks and losses in her heart, and wonders if she's not far behind. And others…

The others fuel spells, and go towards feeding her father. What he wishes with all that power all those spell components harvested from the others, Robin doesn't know. She hopes that he won't find any new 'volunteers' from tonight's show, even if that puts him in a violent mood.

So far his lackies haven't reported back, still sweeping and scouring the crowds. She's been suitably vague in her description of the young man. It's earned her a rattling of her cage bars, but she's grown used to that, and Validar's fingers digging into the feathers of her wings; she'd only given up a guess at his age, and tried to keep even that inaccurate. With luck, Aversa and Ardri will return empty handed.

A part of her even hopes that she imagined that spark, and the intensity of it. That grief and stress have taken their toll on her, and made her hallucinate. This isn't a fate she'd wish on anyone, with even a drop of arcane blood.

Robin slumps to the floor of the cage, completely spent. Some of the performers walk by; two of them pause at the bars, white and dark haired, and she can see how they try to speak… But the wards from her father hold their throats fast. Robin hopes they might become some of the rare few to slip his grasp, and escape; even if they never get their voices back, to tell and warn others. They'll still keep their magic, and have a means to get by. It'll be something they've stolen from him, and deprived him of.

She tries not to think of the alternative; that without new arcane sources, Validar might turn to cannibalizing the more human among their ranks.

She can only give them a wane, half-hearted smile, before they need to rush along. There's harsh rules and penalties, for lingering near her cage-

Which is why it comes as such a shock, that she sees someone hesitating in the shadows, eyes fixed on her. Her claws give a nervous scrape against the metal floor, as she shrinks to the far side of the cage. But instead of moving on, the figure moves with her, stepping closer, letting the fading mage lights touch his face… And she sees the flash of blue in his eyes and hair.

"You're the one from the audience-!" She whispers… And then feels the shock turn to ice in her heart. He can't be here when Validar returns. Robin remembers another routine she's practiced; trading a haunting grace for pure wildness and fury. Useful when they have a rowdier crowd; she uses it now, baring her teeth and letting her eyes flash. The feathers lining her shoulders all bristle, and she throws herself against the cage.

"LEAVE!" She snarls, even as it drives further cracks into her heart. Better to have him flinch and bolt than stay, however.

And yet…

And yet, this man stays in place, even as his hand flashes to his side. Doubtless going for a sword that isn't there. Her father tends to be particular about not allowing armed men into the tents; too many would be interested in claiming to be dragon slayers, and go after her or some of the more changed halfbreeds. When the stranger doesn't find his sword, he instead tenses, digging his heels into the dirt; a clear sign he isn't about to bolt.

"…I-I think not." His voice comes out soft, and he dares to take another step towards her. Not quite in reach of her talons, but closer than many have dared. A time or two, when Validar hasn't been able to find his meals among the performance watchers, he instead puts her cage out for display, for people to come and gawk at. Not everyone who sees her lasts long enough to tell about it. But common or arcane, most choose to keep her at a careful distance.

"I…" The stranger continues, caught between staring at her and trying to find words. "I wanted to…"

He comes right up to the bars, well within reach of her talons. It would be an easy thing to lash out, draw blood and hopefully send him scurrying away… But instead, Robin stills. Close as the stranger is, she can see his eyes. She's never been looked at that way before; with a strange mixture of sympathy and intrigue. Even in the wane lights, there's something warm to his gaze. Something that joins the spark of magic flickering in his eyes.

A spark that Validar will gladly kill for. She forces her fingers to stretch out, to curl into cruel looking talons and threaten him with them… And yet still he won't flinch back.

"…You looked like you were hurt." He continues. "Ah… And pardon me for saying so, but you still look like you're hurting. I wanted to… To help. Somehow."

Even though it's clear he hasn't made much of a plan, beyond finding her and speaking to her. Robin can only draw her hands halfway back, staring at him in disbelief.

"Who are you-?" She tries to ask. Only for a shadow to fall across them both, and snuff out her words.

"Well… I never imagined such a prize would fall into my grasp." Validar's voice sighs over them both. It freezes Robin in place, but the stranger whirls around to face him; giving Validar a good look at his face, and the fire dancing in his eyes. "The Ylissean Prince himself descended from the palace, and comes to mingle with such humble performers. I'm _honored,_ Prince Chrom."

Chrom goes rigid at that; Robin can just catch a scowl forming along his face.

"Sir, if you know who I am… Then I should also tell you, that treating people like chattel is frowned upon in Ylisse; I thought this woman would have freedom outside her cage, not confined like-"

"Like an abomination, your grace?" Her skin gives an unpleasant twinge; he rarely uses that word on her, so it still has the force of a slap. "She's not human, however; that's the burden and gift of being a halfbreed. Being a step between dragons and humans, and made to serve both."

"That's not true at all." Chrom growls, and takes a step closer to her. Validar simply gives him a look of disdain, like he's dealing with a stubborn child.

"Even if that's the case, she's my daughter. I'll treat her as it best suits this family." He gestures to the tent, to the empty cages. The performers have all scurried away, perhaps anticipating a confrontation. And yet, Validar doesn't strike out at Chrom, easy as it would be. Instead he seems to relish in pushing the prince off guard, leaving him gaping and shocked. "Ah, my apologies. I suppose I haven't formerly introduced you; you're in the company of my daughter, Robin."

"You'd do this… WHY!?" Chrom snaps that out, hands balling into fists. "How could anyone…!?"

"Oh, there's some perks to her gilded cage. It keeps her safe from those who wouldn't understand her. Isn't that correct, child?" Validar gives her a brief, dismissive glance, not expecting her to answer.

But she does. Somehow, she finds a flash of courage and desperation.

"You have to get out of here!" She yells at Chrom. "Get back to the palace! Stay with-"

Validar quiets her with a glare.

"That is true… My daughter reminds me, that you DO have quaint notions about halfbreeds. Haven't you offered a few of them sanctuary in your castle? In your own guard?" He considers Chrom for only a moment. "I'd almost say it's worth ransoming you, to see what I'd gain… But I also see that there's no denying the potency of your blood."

Chrom's eyes widen at that, shock and confusion warring across his face.

"…What are you-?" Faster than Robin can react, Validar snakes forward. With one hand he gestures, easing the lock on Robin's cage and forcing the door open. He intends to drive Chrom into her cage, before he has a choice of fighting back.

And yet Chrom still raises his hands, ready to use his fists to fight back. Validar only gives him a sneer… And lets a crackle of magic grow along his hands, turning his nails razor sharp. Where Robin hesitated to strike, he claws into Chrom's arms. Splashes of blood arc from him and land on the cage floor. They buzz with a strange power.

And she remembers, why her father sometimes bleeds out his prizes; because there's power in their blood, or the blood acts as a natural conduit for their power. Either way, she can almost taste a faint crackle of power… And that makes her wonder, if she can use that energy in a way like her father.

At the very least, she's willing to try.

-o-o-o-

His head is swimming, his thoughts turning into a strange compressed blur. At first, Chrom thought that he might need to have a stern word with the leader of this troupe about how to treat his performers… He hadn't figured that he'd need to be fighting for his life. Or for the young woman behind him.

His arms burn and bleed, as though Validar's new talons are pumping venom into him. He wavers from the impact and gouges, his steps stuttering backwards and brushing against the cage. Feathers brush against his feet… And that roots him for a moment.

"R-Robin." He tries her name, seeing if that will help him focus through the sudden pain and shock. His balance wavers once again, his knees almost turning to water as something… Almost feverish blazes to life in his head and heart. It's an echo of what he felt, when he first met Robin's eyes during the performance.

"I-I'll get you out." He tries to promise her. If only he can get his skin to stop burning-

And he feels a strange hum behind him. Something between a song and a growl. He wants to turn, but Validar locks his claws into Chrom's arms, trying to push him back. His heels skid against the dirt, and in the corner of his eyes he also catches a flash of black and violet.

He risks a glance behind him.

Robin's wings seem to flare larger, pushing against the bars of the cage, bending and distorting them. She raises her head, and her eyes crackle with a violet energy. The sight makes something shiver through Chrom… But it also gives him a something to cling onto, a strength that suddenly pierces his limbs.

He throws himself against Validar, as his arms grow tougher. With a start, Chrom picks out flecks of blue growing along his arms. A hint of scales.

His sister had told him, once, that Naga had blessed the royal bloodline. He's just never imagined it would manifest so directly. His heart hammers, anxious and afraid at the sudden changes sweeping over him.

But the rest of him screams to fight back. He locks eyes with Validar… And sees a flash of disbelief dance through the man's eyes. It lasts for only a moment, before something snaps across Chrom's back. He feels the sudden ripple of muscle as his shoulders deform. Then comes a snap of wings, and they fan the air with a heavy gust, pushing Validar back from him.

In the same instant, Robin breaks through the bars of her cage, and sends the metal strands shooting out like spears. One of them catches Validar in the ribs, pinning him to the ground. He gives a pained shriek, but can't lift himself up to stop Robin as she steps out.

"…I-I didn't-" Even after everything he's heard and seen, with how she's been treated, Chrom sees horror flash across Robin's face. First when she looks at her father, then when she takes in him, and the strange changes coating him.

"I-I said I was going to get you out of here." He finds himself saying, to help distract them both. "Looks like I get to keep that promise."

He reaches out, and she stares at his hand again. He gets the impression she's rarely had such a gesture extended to her… But after a breath, she gathers herself and meets his hand halfway. Her fingers, even with their fearsome talons, still shiver. It's a lucky thing his own hands have gotten tougher, that he can fearlessly clutch at her and pull her along. Out of the tent, even as Validar bleeds out and shrieks from the loss.

"Ch-Chrom!?" They barely manage to duck past the tent flap, before realizing that the field outside is anything but empty. Lissa stands there, flanked by the Shepherds, his own guard. Now, he can see a similar spark in the eyes of some of them, even as they stare at the changes cloaking him.

"I…" Lissa tries to say. "I… Sort of blabbed about where we went, and Frederick thought he'd better bring the cavalry along. But I'm starting to wonder if we even needed it." She takes in his wings, his new scales… And yet, she doesn't flinch as Chrom takes a step forward. Instead, she runs ahead of the troops, to greet Chrom and Robin.

"S-so... That's a new look for you." Lissa tells him. Chrom dips his head, wondering how to pull his wings a little closer; the changes put the feathers in Sumia's hair to shame, or the horse-like hooves Stahl tries to hide with armored greaves-

Something brushes his back, and guides his new limbs, showing them how to fold around his shoulders in an improvised blue and silver webbed cape. Chrom breathes a little easier with them mantled, and turns to see Robin running her fingers over his back. She halts the motion at his gaze, ready to flinch away... Like she's afraid he'll decide to turn on her.

"I hope you don't mind, that we've got another person coming home with us." Chrom says instead, to both Lissa and Robin.

"I've… Always wanted to run away, and try something else." Robin softly murmurs. "Even if this isn't exactly… Normal. Like I've always dreamed about."

That cuts at him oddly; the longing in her voice when she talks about being normal. He already knows that isn't an option for her... And there's a strange twinge, knowing that option isn't for him any longer.

Stranger still, is how little he minds the change. Instead, it feels like something that's been missing has clicked into place with him, now that he's met Robin. Like she's a mirror to him, in some ways.

_'Maybe you're just happy that you can keep up with Sully and the others in sparring matches now.'_ There's a ripple of power crackling through him now. An ability to stand more firmly against people like Validar.

"Normal, huh...?" Chrom finds himself saying. "I'm afraid we never were all that normal."

"Nope!" Lissa finds her voice again, and seems to collect herself even with Chrom's changes. "Though you know, it's not a BAD look for you. You kind of match the new girl." Robin blinks at that, and how easily Lissa seems to accept this new development. Chrom has to shake his head, knowing that she's going to pester Emmeryn in his stead, demanding to know what sort of tricks Naga's changelings are capable of.

_'We'll have to figure that out together.'_ And the notion doesn't scare him in the slightest, he finds. It helps that Robin isn't flinching from this, isn't cowering any longer. Together they set off for the castle at a run, leaving the tent, the dark mage, and his strange gilded cages at their backs. As they dash, Chrom finds his breath and the rest of his thoughts.

"But no, we're not all that normal. Never have been. But maybe that'll make us all a better match." Chrom tells her, and is rewarded with nervous laugh from Robin. And instead of lashing at him like her father, he marvels at the gentleness of her touch, as she squeezes his hand and rubs at his fingers in thanks.


	26. Monster Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as the actual Monster Hunter video game AU. Also apologies if there's a few setting flubs, as I got my start with MH World and learned the lore backwards from there!

The clouds seem to shudder from a rumble, and Chrom looks to the sky, to make sure he's hearing thunder. He holds his breath for a moment, waiting, stretching out his hearing; the insects around him keep chirping, and through the undergrowth he can hear the heavy footfalls and rustle of scales, as herd beasts push their way through the forest.

The one thing he DOESN'T hear is panicked bellows, or any thunderous roars.

' _It was just thunder.'_ He tells his body, letting it slowly relax. And the sky supports that thought, as droplets start to spill down on him. It isn't long before the rain picks up, and he's soaked to the skin. The rain drums on the switch axe on his back, making it ping softly, and steam rises where the rain splashes the vials.

The knee-high cat at his side gives an unhappy meowl, rubbing her face with her free paws as she sheaths her own weapon. Chrom takes the cue from the Palico, already dashing away through the undergrowth.

He takes one last glance at the claw marks scoured into the ground, tries to memorize their direction… And then bolts for shelter, keeping his eyes out for any more tracks or trails. The primal forest closes in around him… As do the bones of a massive, ancient beast. The ribcage of this monster has likely stood in the forest longer than his family has existed. And unnerving as the reaching, tree sized bones are, they also do a good job of blocking out the rain.

With a sigh, Chrom collapses against one of them, letting the moss and overgrowth cushion him. His Palico also shakes water off her fur, giving a soft mumble. This hasn't been his best day, if he's being honest with himself-

"Out on a hunt?" Comes a voice near his ear, and it jolts Chrom back up with a startled and undignified yelp. Not exactly the image of a professional, measured hunter. But at least the speaker also scrambles backwards, just as spooked.

He picks out black scale armor and splashes of violet cape, all cloaking a silver haired girl. A black haired cat accompanies her, giving Chrom and his own Palico a suspicious look.

"Um… Y-yeah. Yeah." Chrom finally finds his words. "I'm guessing that's true for you?"

He knows he's looking at another hunter; that much is clear from her armor. The long blade and shield on her back is just the last hint he needs. She gives a slow nod, answering his question.

"And… It looks like we have the same quarry." She tells him. And from the look of this stranger, she's hunted wyverns before.

-o-o-o-

Robin is a surprisingly gentle name, for such a seasoned looking hunter. She doesn't comment much when Chrom gives his own name, instead intent on picking up the trail. A gap in the storm clouds gives them time to move, and track. Her eyes are as sharp as the Palicos, picking out bits of shed scale… And then, as the trail increases, the signs become more clear. Scorches marring the trees, deep gashes left by clawed wings. And-

The game trail seems to open up like a wound in front of them. And there's odd black marks scabbing up the ground. Chrom bends down to look at one of them… Only to be stopped by Robin's hand on his shoulder.

"Don't get too close." She warns him. A moment later, he understands why, as the black marks give an odd hiss and start to smoke. He catches only a taste of the odd miasma, and his vision blurs for a split second; all at once, his own armor feels too heavy, and the switch axe on his back is like a solid weight.

"It's Gore Magala alright." Robin says, voice pitched low and in clear respect for their quarry. Chrom forces himself to take a deep breath of clean air, deciding that all the stories of those strange, corruptive scales have to be true.

"And we're getting close." She continues. She gives a signal to the cats, indicating that they should hang back. Chrom mirrors her signal, leaving him and Robin to stalk forward on their own. The forest opens up, giving way to larger grassy fields. Good places for a hunt, and hand to hand combat…

…And they're going to need that space, when he sees the mass of black prowling along the grass. It looks almost like a great cat, sleek and dark, and shivering with power. The long wings on it trail along like a strange, regal cape.

"That's our target." Robin tells him. "I'll lead, and try to draw its attention." There's a strange, focused quality to her words. When he looks over, Chrom sees her tensed up, almost a mirror of the dragon with how she crouches and starts to prowl forward, every limb of hers twitching with energy and anticipation.

"And remember; if you get the chance, strike along the stomach." Robin tells him. He doesn't get time to do more than an agreeing hum; she's already sliding down the forested hill and closing the distance. The dragon slowly turns towards her, almost like it can't believe a human dares to intrude on its domain-

Or that a human dares to draw a sword on it, and slams the blade straight across its shadow scaled neck. The beast gives an outraged hiss, opening a mouth that has too many teeth, and turns on Robin. One of its wings pops free, showing the long, strange claw-like hands that sprout from the joint. They curl, ready to slam into Robin and crush her into the ground. But she's already rolling away, forcing the monster to follow her.

Robin's dodge looks almost like a scramble, but Chrom can't help but notice that she's taking pains to step on every stick and branch, and leave a loud snapping trail; a clear distraction. The strange, eyeless head follows her footsteps, bristling with rage.

And as it chases her, Gore Magala turns its back on Chrom, giving him the perfect chance to leap in and strike its flanks.

The axe bites deep. And the Palicos, while not as imposing, manage to get a few hits in as well. All while the sky begins to rumble overhead, echoing the outraged roars of the monster, and the rain slashes back down in full force.

He splashes through something, and for a split second wonders if they've wandered into a river… And then, Chrom looks down. Sees how the rain hasn't yet washed away the red coating the grass, and the strange crimson mud where the ground has been torn away. Nearby, he sees several lumpy, broken shapes littering the ground; corpses of other monsters, still with blood on their talons and fangs, and an odd purple hue tinging their skin.

He'd been warned about this; that there was a unique property to this monster that makes it so dangerous… But there's no time to think about the warning. Not when Gore Magala works itself into a rage.

The monster shakes off their strikes, shedding strange blackened scales in the process. It barrels across the grasses, bleeding motes of violet and shadow. Claws gouge on the ground as it rushes across the plain, and Chrom barely has time to throw himself out of the path. But Robin is equal to those violent strikes, dashing with the monster. When it wheels at her, she dodges beneath the jaws, matching it strike for strike, slamming the shield over her sword as it morphs into a great blade.

He wonders if even a charge blade is capable of matching this beast. And that doubt throws Chrom forward, and he doesn't even flinch as he charges through the miasma-

And he feels a strange mist sticking to his vision, turning everything into a stark violet and red… And with it, comes a rage that clings to his muscles, and drives a sudden frenzy into his muscles. There's a faint warning thought blaring through Chrom, that the miasma is doing something to him-

But that dims, as Robin gives out a strange berserk howl, caught in the midst of the miasma. And through the churning mists, he sees Robin glaring at the monster, her eyes glowing red against purple tinged skin.

That warning blares through him again; a reminder of what the report said… That the monster drives others mad, through the aura and mist it spreads. But Chrom can't bring himself to break away. There's a fire burning through his brain and body, driving him to FIGHT.

That madness also gives him something else; a sudden burst of speed and strength, as he throws himself onto the monster, and feels his own weapon shift and change into a long blade. The switch axe morphs, the new sword blade glowing with energy and power. Chrom plunges the blade deep, letting it burn flesh and skin… And that's when he sees it. The faint glint of gold scales, beneath the shadows.

And he remembers what the old hunt master, Frederick told him; that the only thing more dangerous than a Gore Magala, is one that is stopped right before it can transform into a godly Shagaru beast. When it becomes trapped between phases… And gains both strength and madness. The monster whirls, desperately trying to shake him off. Its antenna-esque horns unfold from its head, one of them crackling and shifting into a true golden horn, and a crimson eye opens underneath it.

He wants to break away… But the rage burning through his body won't let him. And it keeps his vision tunneled, so he can't even see the misshapen, gold clad wing breaking from the body until it's too late. The wing slams into his chest, the claws crunch into his torso and even through his armor Chrom can feel his ribs bruise and threaten to crack. He's knocked clear of the monster, his blade scything the air and falling well away from him.

And the Gore Magala looms over him, pinning him to the earth, shrieking rage and ready to crush him under claw and wing.

The Palicos have been shed as well, giving a confused and dazed mrowl. Leaving him to face the half mutated monster. The claws in its muscled, gold tinted wings have turned a vivid crimson, and Chrom half wonders if that's thanks to his blood.

A rumbling builds in the monster's throat, and through the fangs, there's hints of violet burning light. So he's about to die by dragon fire, Chrom thinks-

Except Robin has other ideas, as she vaults along the monster's wings and leaps above , blade fully charged and sinking into the monster's neck. Its head yanks back, the fire shooting well above Chrom's head. The claws tear away from the earth, and he draws in a shaky breath.

He feels something get pressed into his hand, and he realizes the Palicos have rallied and gotten his sword back to him. They give a quick encouraging meow, pushing him to his feet. Chrom forces himself up the rest of the way, and dashes straight at the monster.

He faintly remembers Robin's advice, and even through the odd frenzy gripping his brain, he clings to it. He goes straight for the stomach and chest, and plunges the charge blade into the monster's chest. And then, he just desperately clings on, even as the monster thrashes, screams, and tries to claw at him.

It turns into a blur, where he is faintly aware that Robin is slashing into the monster, while he does his best to cling on and fight… Until at last, the monster goes slack. He has just enough presence of mind to roll away, between the wings. The Chaotic Gore Magala tried to keep itself held up on its wings, only to finally collapse and give one final death shudder.

His own strength gives out on him, and Chrom collapses into the dirt.

"…You still alive?" Robin calls out, and with the monster's death Chrom can feel the miasma slowly dispersing. Slowly giving back clarity.

He manages a faint "…Yeah." In response, and finds Robin standing over him. The red slowly leaks out of her eyes, the purple vanishing from her skin. For his part, Chrom wonders how she can still keep her feet. With the violet armor coating her, and the impossible strength cracking through her, it looks almost like she belongs here, tied into the cycle of fighting these things.

"Not bad, considering your first fight with that thing." She tells him, and offers her hand to help him up. And when he takes it, Chrom feels a sudden jolt of strength, and finds that he CAN climb to his feet after all.

"Looks like you have an affinity towards these things as well." Robin says, almost half to herself. She raises her head, carefully measuring him up. "You know… There are others like that, prowling the wilderness. And the towns won't be safe until-"

"Until we take care of all of them." That notion should fill him with dread. And yet, standing beside Robin, he can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. "It sounds almost impossible… Though we managed to pull a victory off anyway."

"So this isn't our last time working together as hunters?" Robin asks. In answer, he reaches out to clasp her hand, heedless of the scale armor coating it. And he feels an odd jolt of euphoria when she grips back, sealing the agreement.


	27. Flower Shop

It's not a bad shop, Chrom reflects as he looks over the store front. It might be little more than a shed in a park, but the owner carefully arranges the wares, making certain there's a cascade of bouquets and potted plants to draw the eye. There's an odd vibrancy to these flowers as well, showing the owner must have something of a green thumb. Or even a small spark of magic… Though his professors and superiors at the office would likely scoff at such a notion.

But the effect of the shop is undeniable, and Chrom can't help but be happy he volunteered to be the field worker today.

And, underneath the shelves, he can see why he's been called over. It's little more than a shiver of fur and a soft mewl, but he's able to pick it out all the same.

"You must be Chrom?" Comes a voice from the shop. The same one he heard over the telephone. He finds the speaker, half obscured behind a basketful of lilies.

"Yeah. Miss Robin, I take it?"

"Just Robin is fine. Thanks for coming over on such short notice. I just… Didn't know exactly what to do about them." She steps out from behind the bucket of flowers. Chrom notices there's still a few pale petals stuck to equally pale hair. She absent mindedly brushes them out of her bangs, as she kneels down and points underneath the stands.

"Careful!" He warns her. "Don't want you getting clawed up."

"I know. But… Like I said, she seems really friendly." Robin says… And gets backed up by something that sounds a lot like an agreeing purr, from underneath the flowers.

The 'she' in question is a smokey and grey tabby cat, who blinks up at them both with bright green eyes. She shifts a little from where she lays, causing a few startled mewls to break out from the little bundles of fur nestled up against her.

"…Three kittens, just like you said." He counts again to make sure, and scans the space under the stands to make sure there aren't any wanderers. Finding none, he looks back to the mother cat, who gives him a steady but still peaceful blink.

"You're right, she IS calm. No bolting, hissing, or anything like that." He sighs, shaking his head. "If she's that easy going, she must've been someone's pet, once."

"Maybe that's why she came to the shop." Robin muses. "It's the only thing in this part of the park, that looks like a house."

"Could be." Chrom allows. He sets a box down next to him, making certain it's been lined with towels. "Can I ask you to be a look out, in case she decides she DOES want to bolt?"

At Robin's nod, he pulls on a pair of heavy work gloves… Albeit, also a pair of mismatched ones, grey and blue. But as long as they work on wrangling kittens, he doesn't care too much. He still worries he'll get a handful of claws or biting teeth for his trouble… And for a split second the mother shrinks away from him, ears pinned back.

But the next, he closes his hands around one of the kittens, and pulls out an orange ball of fluff with little more than a startled "mrf?"

"Easy does it, Miss." He mutters. Some of the workers call the new mothers 'momma cat' or the like. Chrom privately admits that he's just a little more formal with the titles. And it seems to work, as the mother cat edges towards the opening… And then gives the box an appraising look before hoping in, dragging one of her other kittens with her.

He blinks for a moment, before turning back to the last kitten. Only to find Robin already kneeling in the dirt, and scooping the kitten into her hands. It gives a confused mumble, before she places it gently in the box.

"Miss Robin… You DID call me here to do a job." He can't help but point out, feeling a little amused and a little exasperated.

"True. But I think you still have a bit more to do, before the job is finished. I'm just trying to hurry along to the important part." At his confused blink, she adds. "You know, on what sort of home these cats are going to?"

"Ah…" He lowers his eyes at that. "…About that. We… Actually have our foster homes all booked up right now. We can take them back to the shelter, but space is a bit-"

"W-well, what if they stay here?" Robin counters. "Couldn't I sign on to be a foster home? I know that's sudden but… I just want them to be safe."

Chrom glances between her and the kittens. And he notices that Robin has already tugged the box closer to herself.

"I… Suppose so." Chrom allows. "Though I'd need to stop by to see them. Make sure they're staying healthy, check them for parasites or illness or… Well, you get the idea."

"I've got no objections to that." Robin tells him, while fussing over the kittens and their mother. The gray tabby leans into Robin's hand, giving a contented purr. "It'd be nice, to have an expert around. Especially if he's…"

For a moment, she gives Chrom a sidelong glance, and he wonders at the color in her cheeks. The next moment she ducks her head, focusing on the kittens.

"W-well. Point is, feel free to stop by whenever you want."

-o-o-o-

Robin can't help but notice that Chrom manages to squeeze a visit to her flower shop almost every day, from then on. At first, she's convinced there's something she's doing wrong, and Chrom is doing his best to run damage control. But each time, he tells her that they're doing well… And is surprisingly happy about it, every time he meets her eyes.

It helps that the kittens are always purring when he picks them up. Probably because he usually gives them some form of cat food, getting them used to his hands.

For someone who towers over her, he's remarkably gentle with them as well. And the way they nuzzle at him with whiskery noses always gets a smile out of him. The mother cat has also taken to him, and somedays when she seems ready for a nap, is ready to deposit her kittens directly at his feet.

"Looks like you've won over one of the ladies." Robin teases him, as Chrom juggles two of the kittens. She holds onto the other, coaxing a purr out of it. Chrom ducks his head, looking oddly self conscious… But also focused on checking over and feeding the kittens.

"She seems to trust you a lot." Robin tells him.

"Thanks. I… Don't know if we'll have any space soon, unfortunately." Chrom tells her, flushing a little.

"Does that… Mean that you'll keep coming over to check on them? Because I don't mind holding onto them; I've actually sold more flowers, because everyone talks about the new store cats." She chuckles at the memory; some of her regulars have become even more frequent, and there's been a few strangers asking about 'the store with the cats.' Either way, it's been good for business and socializing the cats.

"Good. And… I don't mind that I keep coming over. I-if you don't mind." He murmurs, and she doesn't miss the hopeful look he gives her.

"Not at all. In fact… I… Rather like seeing you. A-and the kittens also like you, too!"

"Got the appeal of the kids, huh? Sounds like we've got the start of a…" He trails off, shaking his head. "S-sorry. Saying it's like a family is a little too… Too familiar."

Robin bumps her shoulder against him, showing that she doesn't mind.

"Well; we'll have a lot of time to get to know each other, from the sounds of it." And she doesn't mind that idea at all. Neither does the family of cats, with how they all gather around them, and purr away.


	28. Fashion and Models

Robin is pretty sure there's a mistake, when she sees the prince of Ylisse inside the store. She's half ready to ask if he somehow got lost, and blundered into the wrong part of town, followed by somehow deciding a small boutique was where he wanted to be. But the best she can manage is a startled "Hrrk!?"

Which at least alerts the others to the fact that they have a customer. Or one extremely lost member of the royal family.

"Ah, welcome to Minerva." Cherche's voice, by contrast, is smooth as the silk she's holding. She gently pinches the cloth between her fingers, as she approaches the young prince. "Though I must say, we've never had such a well known guest before. Is there anyway we can assist you, your Grace?"

Robin tries not to flush at Cherche's smoothness; she just managed to casually voice all the questions running through her own brain.

"A-ah. Well…" She blinks at the stutter in the young man's voice; he sounds almost as off balance as Robin feels. "It's just… I'm looking for some clothes."

"Well, we ARE a clothing store. So you're on the right track with that." Cherche smiles, to take the sting out of her remark. "Though we don't usually serve royalty…"

"B-but, you DO serve the nobility. Sometimes. Don't you?" He stumbles through the questions. "I-I was asking the captain of our guard where she got her uniform trimmed and fit, and-"

"Oh! You know Phila!" Cherche is bold right now; bold enough to interrupt him, and guess at what he wants. "Yes, she showed up last month, right in time for some sort of festivity up at your palace. Her uniform had been damaged, and the palace seamstresses were all busy with the preparations."

Robin nods along to that; she remembers working through the uniform, carefully patching spots where it looked like swords or arrows had almost found their mark.

"Well… She looked stunning, and caught Emmeryn's eye. She suggested I go see you as well. And… Well, here I am." Cherche nods at that, her eyes sliding over to Robin.

"We're a little bit busy with orders right now; the summer fete is celebrated across the city, you know. But I'm certain I can free my assistant Robin up a little, and have her begin taking your measurements, and working with you. Minverva's will always make time for a customer."

Even if the workers feel a little dizzy at the prospect, Robin thinks to herself.

-o-o-o-

Chrom makes for a surprisingly willing and patient client, letting her take his measurements with scarcely a complaint. The problem is that those measurements themselves… Are oddly distracting.

' _Stay professional, Robin!'_ She tries yelling at herself… And Chrom gives a slight yelp in response.

"T-tell me, do you always pinch people's arms when you measure them?" He asks, trying to get his composure back. And he's already doing better than Robin, with how she can feel her face burning up.

"…Sorry. Accident." The best she can manage is two words. And try as she might, she can't quite ignore how fit he is, underneath his clothes. Robin narrows her eyes, trying not to focus on the fact that Ylisse's prince is painfully attractive in person. She has a job to do-

"Did I… Offend you somehow?" And it gets harder to do that, when Chrom keeps talking.

"No." And still, she can only manage brief sentences.

"It's just, you've been frowning ever since I stepped in here. And Phila always talked about how friendly the staff were…" The disappointment in his voice finally frees up her throat, letting her speak.

"Ph-Phila was… A little closer to our ranks." Robin doesn't dare meet him in the eyes as she talks. "She's not the prince of a country. And not…"

"Not what?" Chrom prompts.

"Not… Quite like… This." Robin finally rests her hands on his shoulders, giving them an awkward pat. "Ph-physically speaking, you're rather… Striking."

She's more than a little horrified at the words spilling out of her mouth. She doesn't even want to go into how oddly sweet he's been, since he walked in. She'd half expected him to be more demanding, like she'd always expected royals would be.

"M-maybe you should take someone else. Cherche can probably ask for one of the other girls to help you out. And keep things more professional-"

"I-I'd prefer not to." Chrom stops her short. "Phila actually… Talked a lot about how you helped her out with mending her uniform. And Emmeryn… She also suggested I ask for you." He rolls his shoulders in a shrug, moving her hands up and down. "So if you don't mind, I'd LIKE to work with you."

She wants to argue that; he'd do better with someone more professional. More gathered together… But the fact is, Robin can't bring herself to protest. Not with that eager and hopeful look he gives her.

"If that's the case, then… I guess I owe you the finest suit I can make."

-o-o-o-

Robin doesn't make that claim idly, Chrom realizes. When he comes back in to get his fittings adjusted, instead of a half finished outfit, there's a fine suit waiting for him. The cloth is smooth under his fingers, and has a soft, rippling sheen of dark colors. And when he tries it on, it fits over him like a second skin.

"You did this on such short notice?"

"You trusted me with a fine outfit… So I wanted to see it through." Chrom looks over the navy blue fabric, smooth as cream. Chrom sighs in admiration; he'll not be putting his sisters to shame with an outfit like this.

"Well, if you don't mind… I just need to make sure it fits perfectly." Robin tells him, though her touch on the sleeves is hesitant. Almost shy.

"I-I don't mind at all." Because while he'd never admit it out loud, he doesn't mind getting her hands all over him. Chrom tries to hold back a quick sigh… Though he does give the seamstress a nervous smile.

"You know… Phila was right." He finds himself saying. "So was Emmeryn. You all know how to build up a good suit."

"Y-yes." Robin says in answer, examining her stitching and how it sits against his arms. "I… Imagine you're going to be impressing a lot of the young women in court."

He doesn't miss the odd longing in her voice at that… And wonders for a moment at it. Perhaps she's a bit of a dreamer after all, wanting to experience the court for herself. Chrom considers her, wondering.

' _I am allowed to invite a personal guest along. In fact, Emmeryn has been insisting on it.'_

He tugs his wrist away from her, and points to the pocket of the jacket he wore to the shop. With a confused blink, Robin goes to the jacket, and fishes out a sealed envelope. She blinks between it and him.

"This… Looks a lot like an invitation-?"

"It is. And you… If you want, you could come to the court with me?" There's such a bright light in her eyes at that, he almost wants to ask her again.

"I-I just need to find something to wear."

-o-o-o-

She's half afraid her outfits will look poor, compared to such finery. But when she steps among the swirling dresses and suits, Robin gives her skirts an experimental swish… And finds that they blend in well enough. The violet fabric flatters her skin as well, though she notices few people opt for such dark colors-

"Robin…?" Comes a familiar voice. The deep navy of Chrom's suit is vivid against the white columns and bright floors.

"It's good to see a familiar face here." He tells her, brightening up as he moves through the crowd and draws close to her. "Emm's going to be glad that you came."

And oddly, Robin brightens up at that; knowing that she has the permission of the Exalt… Even if there's scowls going around on some of the other nobles. At least she has two people in support.

"So, why did you want to come here?" Chrom asks, leading her to a quiet section of the ballroom. "Was there someone who caught your eye?"

Robin gives him a bewildered look.

"Y-yes… Sort of."

"…Oh." He sounds almost disappointed. "Who's the lucky person?"

"L-lucky?"

"Sure; I'm a little envious of whoever gets to know you better."

"D-didn't you figure it out?" Robin stares at him; handsome as he might be, and even with his kind streak… He hasn't quite grasped it. "I… I was hoping I…" She rested her hands on his wrist, pressing her thumbs to his skin. And it seems that gesture is what makes him finally understand.

"…You want to be with ME?" Chrom blurts out.

"O-or at least I want to get to know you!" She rushes out as well, hoping they aren't drawing too many eyes. Robin dares to look at him… And to her shock, sees that he's smiling.

"You know, I'm pretty sure that Emmeryn would like me to expand my wardrobe a little more. If you'd be interested…?" Robin gives a small laugh and nod at that, and lets him lead her back into the gathering, feeling a little brighter. And certainly proud enough of her work to be there.


	29. Tattoo Parlor

He's never seen a tattoo quite like the one on the woman's hand. And while he knows how to mix inks and imbue arcane power, or trace symbols into skin that can call on magic… Chrom can safely say he's never seen such a design before.

The six eyes look back at him, and he can feel a shiver in his own skin; whatever is locked up in this symbol, it's not the usual luck or safety wards he's used to imbuing.

"Robin?" He tests the client's name. "What exactly is this?"

Her fingers curl, nails clawing at the table where she rests her hand.

"Something that I want OFF my skin, if you can manage it." Robin tells him. Tension makes her fingers tight, at least until Chrom gently reaches out to lift her hand up, and get a better look at the tattoo on her hand. She lets him hold it up, letting the ink shift from black to a strange, glittering violet; just a faint hint on how much magic is inside the symbols.

"There's… A lot of power sealed into this mark." He tells her, carefully running his thumb over the mark and feeling it buzz in response. It's an intimate gesture, he knows… but he also needs to do it, to better figure out the strength of the mark. "It'll take time to modify it, or erase it entirely."

"I know…" Robin mumbled, not meeting his eyes. "But I don't WANT it."

"What DO you want in its place? Because I can tell you that we can't take this thing off with the equipment I have. You'd need to go to someone with better equipment and rituals-"

Robin shakes her head at that, an odd determination settling into her face. Her hand tightens up against his.

"I… Might need some time to think on it." Robin tells him. "But I'd sooner not go to anyone else. I've heard that your family knows how to inscribe and work patterns equal to… To the person that put this thing on my hand in the first place."

There's a lot he wants to ask her about; but instead, he tries to give her room to think, and figure out what she wants to do next.

-o-o-o-

As it turns out, she spends a great deal of time in his shop, considering the designs. Trying to find something that will cover her mark, and frowning over each one of them. Not that Chrom can blame her; usually when someone chooses a brand to mark on their skin, it's incredibly personal. A reflection of their nature, and the inner power circulating through them.

Which makes him wonder why Robin possess a mark she can't stand to look at. If she isn't trying to match a pattern to her current mark, then she keeps her hands covered in gloves, no matter how sweltering the weather gets.

He wants to ask about the mark. But instead, he finds herself asking if she wants to get coffee. And to his surprise, she accepts.

Coffee then turns into an invitation to dinner from her. And Chrom gets the feeling there's a loneliness to her; a desire to at least talk to someone.

And he's willing to talk. For weeks at a time as it turns out, until finally he feels comfortable enough with her to ask the one major question.

"Robin… I know it's a personal question, but why did you get such a mark, if you didn't want it?" He asks her one evening, as he closes the shop and she drops a collection of pizza boxes on the counter. Though she quickly flinches from the question, and Chrom is half certain she's ready to bolt.

"It's… Because I didn't get the mark. It was forced onto my skin." She tells him, in a quiet voice. And even though they're in the middle of summer, Chrom feels an odd chill in his blood. But now that she's speaking, Robin can't seem to stop. "I-it was my father. He's a sigil creator, too. And he… Felt that since I'm his blood, he owns my body and skin."

"I…" What can he say to that?

"It's in the past now. At least, I hope it is. And the sooner I can shed this wretched thing, the better. Then I can really put this all behind me."

-o-o-o-

More days pass. Most of them sleepless, if Chrom is being honest with himself. Learning what he has about Robin, he can't get it out of his head. And he finds himself hoping there's something MORE he can do for her.

And finally, after another night of being haunted by the question, he manages to wake up with an answer. He rushes to the shop, forgoing the usual ritual of combing out his hair; something Robin notices, when she steps into the shop.

"…Chrom?" He tries to smooth out his appearance with his fingers, even as he talks.

"Robin, I… If you don't mind, I have a suggestion on how we could change the mark." He tells her.

"And you were pretty eager to tell me, judging by things." She tells him, giving a slight cheeky grin.

"Y-yeah. Here's the thing; there's another pattern we could put on your skin, to help change the magic AND the pattern, and it wouldn't do any harm to you." Robin tilts her head towards him, eager to hear the idea. And Chrom tries not to lose his nerve, as he reaches to his t-shirt and rolls up the sleeves.

"I… I thought I could give you… M-my mark." He gets all those words out right before his face starts burning up. "A-and I know that's… A pretty bold suggestion."

And personal. Telling someone he'd like to share marks. Chrom starts to lower his head, certain he's overstepped himself… Only to catch Robin nodding. It's the slightest dip of her head, making her hair fall over her face and slightly hide her own pink cheeks.

"I…" Her voice is soft. "I… Wouldn't mind. Having that in common with you. The fact is, your mark IS nicer than mine. More handsome-"

"H-hey. I wouldn't go that far." He tells her. "Besides, I don't think yours looks all that unpleasant at ALL-" He's about ready to slap a hand over his mouth, with how he's talking. "A-actually. Maybe we should just get the equipment ready. Provided you don't have any second thoughts?"

Robin's answer to that is reaching out and squeezing his fingers, putting all her gratitude into the gesture… And Chrom finds that just like before, when he first held her hand, he doesn't mind the intimacy at all.


	30. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the quick Trials of Mana experimental AU, with elements of Legend of Mana.

The sun sets on the kingdom of Plegia, taking the day's fire and heat with it. Robin watches the fading daylight, and how it transforms the world beyond Plegia's castle. Over the walls, the wilds of the kingdom glow and pulse. Half from the shifting daylight, and half from their ambient magic.

The sands of Plegia glow like the embers of a fire, red and orange in the setting sun. The peaks of the dunes blaze, while dark shadows form at the base of the sands. A stray wind picks handfuls of sand off the tops of the desert and lets them dance against a violet sky; a hint of flame seems to hide in the motes, making them glow. The desert is a creature of fire, in that instant.

' _Praise to the fire and it's guardian spirit,'_ Robin focuses on the prayer, and lifts a collection pipes to her lips. They hum with a faint power of their own; there's supposed to be magic in instruments like this, when played right, and meditated on.

At least that's what all the palace scholars say, and sometimes demonstrate with their spells. Their prayers and tribute to the mana spirit of fire have a haunting quality, whenever they play their own pipes. The best Robin can do, by contrast, is avoid any sour notes whenever she plays. The fire has yet to answer her.

Still, she puts all she can into the melody, trying to call out to the dunes and their last blaze of life, against the encroaching night.

' _Salamander, who guards the flames so bright, gives us the burning sands by day into night,'_ She works on the melody, shifting her perch on the windowsill. It feels like that song could carry all the way out to the desert, and the fire mana flickering along the sand. The dunes blaze one last time in the setting sun, and she feels a sudden spike of heat at the tips of her fingertips. Her pulse quickens, as a hum of power blazes through her blood-

In the next breath, that power is snuffed out. The sun vanishes, smothering out the fire along the dunes. And taking whatever hint of magic she feels with it. All she's left with is a deadened feeling on the ends of her fingers, and a hollow space in her chest.

Another failed casting. The daughter of archmages, and she can't even manage a basic conjuration when the air was rife with fire magic.

She's ready to throw the pipes out the window, or dash them against the side of the wall. Robin bites back a frustrated cry, and stows the pipes in the pockets of her robes. She can see the power of mana in her kingdom, feel its faint touch in the world around her… And yet she can never reach out and harness it for herself.

' _Child of mages, without a hint of magic to show for it.'_

Robin lowers her head, glaring out the window. Below the castle tower, the dunes turn a soft blue and silver. The heat haze vanishes, becoming achingly clear and cold. The setting sun takes one form of mana, and replaces it with another.

' _From the fire spirit Salamander, to the water and ice of Undyne.'_ Even with her temper, she can't snuff out the feeling of awe as the scenery shifts. The desert goes from burning dunes to snow covered hills, ice and snow spreading like pale flowers.

But through it all, the walls of the castle stand firm. The crystals wards crowning the towers blaze like torches, rippling with rainbow hues.

Robin turns her back to the window. Maybe tomorrow, luck will finally turn for her-

Her breath comes out in fog, and Robin's heart almost stops. No matter what extremes happen outside, the castle is supposed to be safe; protected with wards and spells fueled by the wild magic outside, and always in a state of gentle spring weather.

So why has the temperature suddenly plunged? There's even the hint of ice on the glass and walls, something she's never seen before. Robin hesitantly brushes her fingers against the stones, taking in their cold quality.

"Lady Robin?" She flinches at the voice, before turning to see a dark haired mage.

"Please don't fall out of any windows, before I bring you to the king and queen." The mage drawls. "You've been summoned."

Robin tries not to groan at that; a summoning from her parents seldom ends well. Instead, she bows her head, gesturing for the mage to lead the way. The chill follows them down the hall, and even the mage notices with how she rubs at her arms.

"The mana is still weakening… I wonder how much longer before we all turn into icicles or husks." The mage mutters to herself. But she doesn't give Robin a chance to answer that, instead taking her through the castle.

As they walk, torches and candles slowly flicker to life, taking the last traces of fire magic out of the air. They illuminate carvings set into the walls, of fire and ice spirits, undynes and salamanders moving in rings around the other. A reminder that Plegia has always been a land of dualities; desert by day, tundra by night. And always a wasteland of some sort, due to the rampant amounts of mana. But it also means the potential for magic is high.

' _Unless you were born like me.'_ Robin allows herself that one grumble, before focusing on measuring her steps and mastering a composed look, until at last, she steps into the throne room. The great hall opens up with high vaulted ceilings, and generous windows now looking out over snowfields.

With the evening, the character of the room has changed; the rich and opulent red fabrics shift to violet, and shards of crystal wink in the chandeliers overhead, covering the blue tinged room in ever shifting motes of rainbow light. Robin carefully picks her way forward, coming to a stop before a pair of thrones.

This time, it isn't just her mother seated; the larger of the thrones is filled by a dark clad man.

"Father-?" Robin hadn't expected to see him, certain he's in another mood where research or meditation is more important than court. But instead he sits in his throne, narrowing his eyes when she speaks.

"You will address me either as 'your Grace' or 'King Validar.' Need I remind you that we're in the midst of court?"

"O-of course not, fa- your Grace." The shielding against mana is stronger here, but Robin still feels a hint of ice in her blood, as her father watches her. There's something cold and measuring to his gaze. At last Validar bows his head, showing the faintest hint of approval.

"It seems I wasn't mistaken." He murmurs, making Robin narrow her eyes.

"…Your Grace? What do you mean?" She finds herself glancing to the other figure on the thrones, the woman in long violet robes and silks. Her mother has an odd, distant look in her eyes as she watches Robin; it makes her wonder, if there's a toll taken on her mother, from keeping the shield against the elements active at all times.

And at the moment, her mother also doesn't speak over Validar.

"Robin, you know that my travels take me out of Plegia." Validar said, as though he's explaining things to a rather slow child. "Into the wider world of Fa'Diel. To see if the infidels have anything worth knowing."

"You… Discovered something, sir?" Robin asks, and Validar nods in approval.

"We have mana in plenty up here, it's true… But there is a power beyond even that. The reason these mana spirits came into existence was because of," he pauses, waiting to see if Robin can keep up. And from a distant memory, she remembers reading stories in the castle library.

"Because… Of a battle between the goddess of mana, and ancient beasts."

"Benevodons." Validar puts a name to them. "She needed her own agents to fight against such beasts, though in the end she could only seal them away… And among them, chief and greatest of the calamities caused by the beasts, was one leader. A great dragon."

"Grima." Robin finishes. Her fingers twitch, like they're turning the pages of an old book once again. She can picture the illustrations, the artist's impression of the great monster; a black and violet dragon with shadowy breath and hints of other elements.

"Smart girl." Validar congratulates her. "And since the goddess failed to kill these creatures, it's possible for US to awaken them."

Robin stares at that, a shudder working its way up her back. At first she's certain she's misheard him, but there's a hard light to his eyes. An ambitious look clouding his features, and he doesn't speak again. Waiting for her answer.

"H-have you taken leave of your senses!? Even if you could awaken a monster like that, how could you control it?" Instead of answering, Validar gives her another measuring look… And asks a question of his own.

"Haven't you ever wondered at your lack of magic?" Robin squirms under the question.

"I-I thought I was making progress-"

"You are ill suited to directly channeling fire and ice magic, as it turns out." Validar sighed out… And yet there's a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Because your nature is tied to a greater power. A darker one… A fragment of Grima. Which makes you ideal for awakening the beast, and giving us our weapon."

There is more than a hint of ice in her blood, now. Validar has to have taken leave of his senses… And yet there's a measured quality to his words, and his eyes seem to pierce right through her as they measure her up. His smirk only grows as he speaks.

"We don't know how well your body will fare against such a ceremony of course… But for the glory of Plegia, we all need to accept sacrifices."

"Mother, you can't possibly agree to this!" Robin desperately says… But in answer, her mother's head does a slow swivel towards her, almost like it is pulled along on a string. Her eyes can't seem to focus on Robin, and when she speaks there was an odd, fogged quality to her words.

"Child, it is for the glory of Plegia."

"And we've already found records of the Benevodon." Validar continues. "A portion of it lays beneath our very castle, ready to be awakened. And with your help… Well, once we've brought the other kingdoms around us to heel, we'll have enough mana to fuel thousands of spells, and bring even greater glory to our kingdom."

' _He's not promising glory; it's only going to end in madness and destruction. The texts were clear on that.'_ And yet, Validar seems to have deluded himself into thinking otherwise.

"I refuse!" Robin shouts out, earning a glower from Validar.

"…Do you truly think you have a choice? Or that your life would have any meaning without serving us?" His words make her freeze, and to her shame, Robin feels tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "You still can't use magic. Your affinity towards shadow does us little good, left to molder away behind these walls. This is a chance to make something of yourself, and erase the initial shame of your birth."

The words are like a blow, and leave a strange buzzing sensation in Robin's head. Validar rises as he speaks, taking one step towards her with each word.

"Now. Enough stalling, and come with me. Your destiny awaits."

"No!" All her words desert her, except for one. And that word has the power of a shout… Or the blast of a single note. When she screams it out, a sudden surge of energy shoots from her heart and through her limbs.

The room goes dark around her, while her own skin seems to glow almost painfully bright for a moment. Validar spits out a curse, running forward to try to catch her. Instead, Robin throws her hands up, and a bright light flares off her body, blinding her and blurring all of her surroundings. The world drops out all around her, leaving Robin floating in a strange void.

Her one thought through all of that, is that somehow, for the first time, she's worked magic.

But now, she needs to find a way out of this place, away from her father. To somewhere safe-

Magic screams past Robin, and it feels like she tumbles past the palace and down a strange tunnel that leads through the heart of Fal'Diel. Images flash by her; a great tree rising into the clouds, with a white dragon coiled around the base. A sword resting amongst pools of clear water and weaving, moss clad roots. Crimson birds that dart past her, as though in a race.

This is a teleportation spell, Robin faintly realizes; though the sights around her dim all her thoughts.

The world of Fa'Diel spreads out below her, pristine… And yet oddly fragile looking, like she's staring at a world of vibrant glass, with hairline cracks beginning to show at the edges. Plegia's pale snow fields seem to carry smudges of black, and there's a sharp edge to the ice; the place has lost any majesty it once held, looking cold and hostile instead. The red birds dart past her, drawing her eye to a different land, across mountains and water from Plegia. It's a rolling, green place, filled with more trees than even the palace gardens and orchards can boast. And there is a figure walking among them. He climbs a mountain path, on a peak that almost touches the sky, and his white cape tangles and snaps in the wind-

And he suddenly yanks his head up, staring up at her with startled blue eyes. It all happens a split second before Robin finds herself crashing down.

' _Spirits! Let me down gently!'_ She throws out her hands at the thought, trying to find some way to cushion her fall.

The magic listens to her, dispersing in a sudden rush that takes most of her breath with it, and leaves her hair tangled. The world snaps back into clarity around her… Without a trace of snow or desert. Instead, a gentle, cool breeze brushes strands of hair from her face. It helps her breathe, and for a moment Robin forgets the ice in her blood, the dread pooling in her heart; something about this place feels like it is ill-suited for Validar, and that he'd have a difficult time following her-

"H-hey!" Though it quickly becomes clear that even if she's teleported away from Validar, she still isn't alone. She tries to find the speaker, and even the faintest turn of her head almost sends Robin crashing over.

Robin's feet give a wobble, uncertain if there's any strength left to hold her up after that burst of magic. She tilts towards the ground, and prays that wherever she'd found herself, it has a soft floor… But she never makes it all the way down.

Instead a set of arms wrap around her.

"…Unbelievable. I go out patrolling to fight monsters, and find magic users instead." The voice continues, right next to her ear. "Emm wasn't exaggerating when she said the world is getting stranger."

"Who…?" Robin tries to ask, and furiously blinks her eyes to better see. The world is bright around her, and tinged with green. She gradually picks out who is holding her up; a young man, clad in silvery armor and blue fabric, with a cape that easily catches the wind. The same one from her vision… And thankfully looking unbruised, even with Robin's rough landing.

"You… You are-" She recognizes that outfit from books, though she's never seen it first hand. She's never gotten to set foot outside the borders of Plegia, and yet now she finds herself well away from the castle.

"You're… Ylissean." Her mouth finds the words. She takes in more of her surroundings, and the reaching cliffs, while grass rustles and brushes at her boots and the hems of her robes. "Did I make it to… To Ylisse, of all places?"

The young man nods, brushing blue hair out of his face as he looks over Robin and takes in the quality of her robes.

"And you're… Plegian? Spirits, you're a long way from home!" There's a clear curiosity to him, as he looks over her appearance. "I… I've never seen a Plegian mage, before. Do you always teleport around without warning?"

Robin tries to answer, only for the world to spin around her, and she collapses against the young man's arms.

"…Gods, do the cliffs always spin around like that?" Her voice sounds oddly muffled, and the young man gives a muttered curse when her fingers brush over his skin.

"You're burning up. Quick, get your arm around my shoulders; I'll see about getting you someplace safe." Whoever this person is, he doesn't leave a lot of room to argue. He's already drawing her arm around him, helping to hold her up. And Robin herself can't protest; that first rush of magic has taken its toll on her-

And yet, she can't keep from smiling for an instant, even though she knows she looks like a dazed fool.

' _Magic. I finally channeled my own magic.'_ And with any luck, this stranger will be right, that she's found herself somewhere safe.

-o-o-o-

Chrom has never seen a Plegian mage before; he's also never seen the winds shift and blow so erratically about Ylisse. The windstorms are supposed to be a blessing Jinn. (Or Sylphid; the sacred texts never seem to agree on the name.) They're meant to help shelter their kingdom, rather than turn into such an unpredictable mess.

And 'unpredictable' has been the only constant in his life, right now. First the chaos of his father disappearing, the rumors of a fell dragon stirring in its sleep, only to be sealed away… And the ascension of his own sister to the throne. And now, mages from a different nation drop out of the sky, without any strength left to walk.

"At least you're not as heavy as you look." Chrom says, earning a grumble from the stranger; but it's true, that most of the weight seems to be her coat, while she's little more than skin and bones. It's a lucky thing she DOES cling onto him, otherwise one of the gusts might very well pick her up, and blow her off the mountain.

Just to be certain, he tightens his grip on her.

"Not much further now." He says, half to himself and half to her. The trail back to the castle is one full of twists and turns, the path like ribbon draped across the rocky crags. "Just hang in there, mage."

"Rmmbn." Her reply is almost lost over the rustling branches, forming a green canopy overhead.

"What-?"

"Robin. My name." Her reply is broken and half coherent, as she slumps against him. But he's still able to make out some of the words.

"Ah… Well, okay, Robin." At least now he has a name. It gives his stride a little extra reach, as the castle slowly rises into view above the peaks. In a short time, the only thing left to cross is the bridge, spanning the gap between two mountains. The planks creak underneath his feet, the ropes giving soft complaints of their own. The sound prompts Robin to lift her head… And realize just how far they are off the ground. Beneath the planks, stretches a long expanse of nothing, save for a whistling wind. Blue ocean and skies frame them on either side, something Robin doesn't take well to, with how she clings onto Chrom.

"…N-never mind. I want to go back to Plegia. Dying by magic is better than dying by falling." She blurts out. It makes Chrom freeze in his footsteps. But he also knows that he can't afford to pause on the bridge, much as he wants to question Robin. It's too fragile of an area-

And the worst place to be found by any roving monsters.

A blur of feathers shoots past his head, along with a sabre-like beak that tries to bury itself in his skull. Chrom has to drop to the planks, as a needle beak shoots past him with an angry whirr of wings. Something else smacks against the wooden floor, making the planks jolt underneath him, and he yanks his hand aside to avoid more sharp tipped beaks piercing through the bridge. There's an entire flock of the things, agitated and looking for a target they can attack.

"Sorry!" He has time to tell Robin, before dropping her on the planks. In response she clings to the bridge ropes, watching him draw his blade. The sword isn't much more than a guard's weapon, and he finds himself longing for more regal equipment… But the steel still cuts into the needle beaks. He shears away feathers, sending two of the birds plummeting into the abyss.

' _Where's the third-?'_ He wonders, only for something to slam into his back, hard enough to draw blood. Chrom collapses, his sword rattling across the bridge and coming to a rest out of reach. The needle beak soars above him, ready to plunge back down and skewer him-

A trail of strange, dark fire meets the monster halfway through its plunge, singing feathers and knocking it out of the sky. Chrom's back burns as he fights his way up, and turns around to meet Robin. There's a faint whistle in the air, and he sees a set of pipes clutched tight in her fingers.

"It worked-?" Robin wheezes out, looking half shocked that she's managed to cast a spell.

"What do you mean 'worked?'" Chrom asked. "That was… Incredible! I've never seen magic like that."

It seems Robin has her own share of shock. Like she's still new to magic.

"Are such creatures common here?" She asks instead, as Chrom retrieves his sword.

"They're agitated; like there's something out of balance." He tells her. Chrom watches a few left over feathers, dancing on the breeze. "And there's been more and more attacks on patrols and travelers. We… Need to do something about that."

He scoops Robin back up, helping her drop the pipes back into her pocket.

"Perhaps… I can help you with that. Something's been throwing my kingdom out of balance as well." Her words come out a bit more slowly, and he can feel her relax against him; likely drained from everything that's happened.

Chrom finds himself nodding, helping Robin off the bridge and towards the castle gates.

"We need all the help we can get right now." And he can't help but feel a sense of interest with this girl, and hope that she might be willing to talk. Hopefully, after she wakes up, given that he can feel her nodding off against him.

-o-o-o-

Robin blinks her eyes back open to a place she's never seen; there's echoes of Plegia's opulence, of golden decorations, but trimmed with green fabrics and favoring designs of trees and silvery embroidery that suggest breezes of wind.

' _Wind and wood…'_ She remembers the elementals. And just like that, it catches up to her, that she's found herself in the kingdom of Ylisstol. She bolts upright, as covers shift and fall about her. The details of how she got here slam back into her memory, right as she stands up.

This time, her feet thankfully hold, but not without some scuffling. She tries walking, only to almost get a door almost smashing into her face as it flies open, and shows the young man from the forest on the other side.

"Chrom!?" Comes a worried voice from the other side. "We need to find Lissa! Why are you wandering off-?"

"Because…" Chrom motions to the inside of the room, where Robin stands. Over his shoulder, Robin spots a woman with long blonde hair, and worried eyes. "Emm, I guess it's time for you to meet the Plegian mage. Robin."

For her part, Emmeryn gives Robin a measuring look… But with a strange look of pity in her eyes, as well. She looks oddly serene, with a golden crown resting on her head; she has the look of royalty, much like Robin's own mother.

"The exile from the mage nation." Emmeryn names her.

"…Why did you want to see me?" Robin tries not to squirm under Emmeryn's gaze.

"Well, my brother Chrom spoke highly of you, and how you saved his life." Robin tries not to double take at that, staring between Emmeryn, and the man who is apparently her brother; he doesn't exactly look the part of a prince. Neither does he act in a way she'd expect from royalty.

' _But maybe that's for the best.'_

She doesn't miss the glance between Emmeryn and Chrom; looking uneasy, like they were feeling their way across thin ice.

"And… You feel well, it seems. Not the worse for your ordeal, or with how long you rested."

Unease takes root in Robin's throat.

"How… Long have I been out?"

"Three days." Chrom is blunt with her, and the weight of how long she's been out hits her hard. In just two hours, she's had her old life torn away, and found herself in a new kingdom; she dreads to think of what's happened in seventy-two hours. On reflex, her hand goes up to her throat, only to find it unharmed, and her limbs unfettered.

"I'm surprised you didn't slit my throat while I slept," she starts to say, only to pause at Emmeryn's horrified look.

"I-is that how diplomacy works in Plegia?" Emmeryn asks. "We've seen movements along their borders, forces marshalling at the shores… But we weren't about to execute you for the crime of being born in a rival country."

"…They're going to be more than a rival country, soon enough." Robin mutters. She feels a momentary pang of guilt, for being so free with the information. But she also remembers the hungry look in Validar's eyes, the cold quality of his voice, and the way her own mother was little more than a bystander. She forces herself to raise her head, and look the two siblings in the eyes.

"The king of Plegia plans-"

She starts to say, but a screel of wild music halts her words… As does an explosion of fire outside. The shudder of the spells slam into Robin's ears, and makes the windows to the room all fly open; heat lashes her skin… And outside, she can see that night sky is painted orange and red.

Any warning she was trying to give, comes too late.

Chrom is like a cat on his feet, spinning towards the door and drawing the sword at his side. Beyond, Robin picks out figures clad in violet silks, fire and ice at their fingertips.

"Chrom, don't waste your energy on fighting them!" Emmeryn tries to warn, but with an angry howl he throws himself at the mages. Emmeryn can only watch, unable to match his speed or fury. Instead, she looks back to Robin, desperation showing clear on her face.

"Please, go after him-!" She begs Robin… But still Robin hesitates.

"But, I'm Plegian-" Robin starts to protest… Only for a pair of mages to sweep into the room.

It's terrifying, how fast her fingers find the pipes in her pocket, and how the magic leaps to her fingers. How she takes in their cold eyed looks for only a moment, before she lashes back at them. A part of Robin feels sick, that she can turn against her countrymen in an instant. Another part of her sees echoes of Validar in their expressions, and she can't blot that threat out quick enough. This time it's a shadow-stained ice that answers her call, freezing the mages in place, and coating the area in frost.

"…You've also saved my family twice now." Emmeryn tells her, as the magic dies in a crackle of ice. "I don't know what the rest of Ylisse is doing against these invaders, but I need to ensure that-"

That Chrom is safe. Robin nods, feels the restless energy still in her limbs, desperate for an outlet. She dashes out the room, as Emmeryn calls out to her to follow the carvings; that's likely what will lead her to Chrom.

As she races down the castle passages, the super-heated air burns at her lungs, urges her to hurry. There's shadows of combatants etched on the walls and pillars, crumbled shapes that could be bodies. All of it turns her stomach, reminding her that the world is slowly going mad…

…Though she feels a moment of stability when she bursts out of the hallway, and sees Chrom is still alive. He stands in the depths of the castle, staring at an ancient bit of machinery; the remains of a broken crystal still glow in a mangled socket, giving his eyes a desperate quality.

"Chrom-?" He whirls at that, hand on sword… But stills when he sees her face. Rage twists across his features.

"We're overrun by Plegian mages! Did they send you as an advanced scout?" He spits out… And those words cut at her.

"I…" Robin tries to shake her head… Only to freeze as the point of Chrom's sword flashes up to her neck. He glares at her, daring her to attack… And yet, Robin's magic doesn't answer her. Instead, she stares back at Chrom, letting her body go limp.

"I don't want anything to do with them, or their plans! Validar has gone mad… And it feels like I can't run far enough from them!" Tears sting at the edges of her eyes as she speaks. She hates how they blur her vision, and yet through them, she can see Chrom lowering the blade.

"Chrom…" There's a strange echo around them, that seems to resonate from the shards of the crystal. Robin recognizes Emmeryn's voice, though there's a strange, pained quality to it. Another cold weight sinks into her stomach, and Chrom freezes as well. "I sense… Robin has found you. The energy in the generator room is rich with mana."

Chrom swallows, trying to find words as he whirls around and drops his blade. The air almost burns at their skin, while the castle gives an odd groan; like the stones themselves are burning and melting.

"Listen; time is drawing short on us." Emmeryn continues. "The kingdom is falling… And Lissa has gone missing."

"I only caught the briefest glimpse of her, before the crystal shattered." Chrom whispers.

"I can spirit you away, before the castle falls; one of us needs to survive, and tell the other kingdoms what's coming. I've told the others to flee… And I won't let you pointlessly give up your life."

Before Chrom can argue, can raise his voice in protest, the crystal fragments around them flare. Robin recognizes the glow; it's the same light that surrounded her, before her jump across Fa'Diel-

And then, for the second time, the world drops out around her. The only thing solid is Chrom, and by reflex she grabs onto him, half afraid he might get lost in the spell.

When the magic disperses, she finds herself resting on the rocks… With Chrom close by, curled up in a mixture of shock and grief.

She doesn't know how long they lay there on the cliffs, until Chrom at last pulls himself back up. There's a haunted look in his face, as he looks back towards the castle, and the veil of black smoke draped across it.

"I… I was supposed to be looking for my sister Lissa, before everything went wrong." He whispers. "I saw her surrounded by mages, in the wind chamber. They were pressuring her, forcing her to permanently destroy the machine. And then…"

"…And then Plegia came, to conquer your kingdom and take whatever mana they could find." Robin finishes the thought, and hangs her head. "I should've warned you. But I didn't think they'd be capable of… That anyone would be so ruthless…"

Chrom holds a hand up, pausing her.

"It was wrong of me, to lash out at you." Chrom says at last, slowly turning to watch Robin. "You kept me alive, when my kingdom was falling around me. And I suspect the only reason I'm in one piece after that teleport is thanks to you."

"What will you do now?" Robin askes.

"…Find answers." Chrom is decisive in that. "Even if I have to go alone… Though… I would ask if, even after everything, you might go with me?"

"I… Do owe you my life." She murmurs, wondering at how her feet stay rooted to the spot, instead of fleeing.

"I'd sooner have your loyalty." Chrom tells her, his voice low and fierce. "Don't follow me, because you feel obligated. Follow me because there's trust. Because…" And here, his voice hitches. "Because we need to make this right, and no one else can."

Robin worries, when she puts her hand on his shoulder, that he might flinch away. Instead, he claps his hand over hers, and there's a desperate strength in how he clutches at her.

"I swear, we'll make it right." Robin tells him. They stand there for some time, two people against a mad world. Chrom can only nod at that… And desperate as everything is, Robin is glad she's stumbled into his company. And that her magic can serve in a better cause, instead of anything her father has planned.

Chrom gives her hand one last squeeze, before turning them to the mountain path; at the bottom of the cliffs she can see the beginnings of a harbor town. A start to a journey, she thinks.

"Glad to have you along." Chrom tells her.

"In spite of everything?"

"Because of everything." Chrom corrects her, his voice going more gentle. "At least we won't be facing this on my own. And it's good to know I have a mage on my side."

She'll need to get used that, Robin thinks. Being considered a mage, instead of a disgrace. But that change isn't such a bad thing; neither is finally having a companion at her side.


	31. Wildcard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently when I'm given three extra prompts, my mind goes to a His Dark Materials inspired AU set in a coffee shop. And with this, AUgust is finally done! Updates to Lost to the Waves will resume in September; thank you all for your patience, and for reading!

Burning his tongue and getting hot coffee spilled on his lap, as it turns out, is the LEAST of Chrom's problems. Though he doesn't realize it quite yet. Right now his biggest concern is to swallow up the yelp and keep a shop full of people and beasts from staring at him.

"Told you this was a mistake." The daemon at his side growls, tail bristling and lashing from the shared discomfort. Naga doesn't seem to care much about how Chrom is biting back a lot of screaming and cursing, focusing on chastising him instead. That cheek and scolding makes him wonder, if Naga was always meant to be a daemon to one of his sisters, instead of him.

"Can we save the lectures about leaving the palace? At least until later?" He manages to grit out instead, hopefully keeping his voice low enough that the other patrons don't hear anything. The wolf daemon just sighs in response, ears pinned back to show her frustration.

"S-sorry!" Says his server. Her daemon nervously twines around her heels, watching the proceedings through large cat eyes. The waitresses eyes are similarly large and staring, mortification clear on her face.

"It's… Fine." Chrom grits out, watching the server. And desperate to focus on something else, he says, "You… Haven't been working here long, have you."

He's pretty sure he recognizes all of Anna's regulars; this is his favorite shop to moonlight as a regular person, thanks to the agreement he's worked out with the owner. He gives Anna a generous tip each time he visits, and she in turn keeps any wild guesses about his identity to herself. As a consequence, he knows most of the staff here. He also knows that even Sumia isn't so awkward that she'd spill hot coffee on people.

"N-no. I was lucky enough that Anna offered me a job when I asked…" The stranger says, coloring fast and ducking her head. "It turns out that drinking a lot of coffee and serving it are two different things."

Taking her in, Chrom can't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes; her daemon also betrays how nervous she is, constantly glancing about and lashing his tail. She has the look of someone harried, who even in a warm, velvet blanketed shop can't let her guard down.

"Anna's Airship" the locals all jokingly call the coffeeshop. Each time he comes in, Chrom is more convinced the name is apt. He keeps picking out little details of brass; cogs and pipes threading through the shop, hints of this place's past life as an airship gondola. Though how Anna got her hands on such a thing, OR transported it to the heart of Ylisstol, Chrom doesn't know. But it means the place is full of odd charm.

All of which seems to be lost on the server, with how she frets over him. She half slumps as she looks over him, shame pinching her eyebrows together.

"L-look. I won't raise a fuss, and I don't want you to get into any trouble but… I could really use some help with the coffee stains." Chrom tells her. She jolts out of her nervousness, and grabs at the towel in her apron, holding it out to Chrom.

"H-here. This might help with the mess…" She trails off, before carefully taking a seat next to him. "And… Thanks."

At least she helps block off the view and save some of his dignity, as Chrom gingerly dabs at his lap. Around them, the lights give a faint flicker; the coffee engine is likely drawing the bulk of power again, with how the valves all start whistling. The stranger starts a little at the sound… And in the corner of his eye, he can see her daemon ripple subtly in response, shedding its silvery tabby colors and shifting to black.

Shifting.

Chrom clutches at the towel, hoping he isn't staring. Because the stranger has to be around the same age as him; long past the point where her daemon should be settled into one form. At his feet, Naga gives a worrying rumble. And just like that, the stranger bolts back up, gathering the cat in her arms. With another shiver, the daemon switches back to stripes at her contact.

"S-sorry again. If… If there's anything I can do for you though, just ask for Robin." And with that, she leaves him nursing some scalded skin, and a headful of questions. It takes him a full minute to realize he's never gotten his drink, and in the grand scheme of things, that doesn't seem to matter as much.

-o-o-o-

"We're pressing our luck." Naga tells him as they approach the coffee shop entrance. "Two days in a row ups the chances of getting caught."

"Oh, hush." Chrom tells her, pushing a curtain of fabric to one side and ducking through the doorway, feeling around for the entrance. "We're also doing our civic duty, with making certain the citizens are satisfied."

"With their coffee? I'm certain there's more pressing things we could be doing… Aside from wondering how the new hire is doing." He finds the brass handles and throws the door open at that, before Naga can give him more than a hint of a large toothy grin. The bell overhead chimes as he looks around the shop.

The chime rings off the glass panels of the former canopy, echoing through the shop. Chrom only relaxes once he's stepped through, and left the chaos of the city at his back. The doors and even the glass and wood walls help shut off the raised voices and clatter of hooves and carriages of the streets.

"Rough day out there?" Anna asks, looking up from where she polishes and cleans one of the tables. Her ferret daemon winds around her shoulders, and raises his head up to chitter at Chrom.

"It's… Been chaotic. The Magisterium have sent a few more agents into the city."

"And the royal family isn't certain how to deal with them." Anna says flatly, with nothing beyond an arched eyebrow at Chrom.

"I-if I were to guess, they don't want to make the same mistakes as the last Exalt. Letting the Magisterium whisper too much zealotry in their ears… And enter into a war that leaves them as weak as Plegia." That's the most he wants to say; Anna can likely infer the rest. That he doesn't want to see Ylisse go the way as their rival, Plegia. Becoming too devastated by war to become more than a puppet-state to the Magisterium. Naga growls at his side, bristling at the thought and showing her fangs.

"Sounds pretty dour. You need a good drink to chase that away?" He gives Anna a grateful nod.

"Exactly; I'll be at my usual spot… And take the usual, as well."

Anna has likely tweaked her power source again, and made the lighting a little more orange. It gives the shop a warm, homey feel, almost like stepping into a hearth.

Against those ruddy colors, it's easy enough to pick out Robin. The violet of her clothes is a sharp contrast to the warmer outfits of the patrons.

When she sees HIM however, he's half worried she's going to bolt. So instead of striding up to the counter, he settles in his favorite corner; one next to old books shelves stuffed with old tattered covers. And then, he waits and watches.

Several of the regulars are around today, either as staff or as customers. He glances over to Miriel, deep in her studies, her owl perched on her shoulder with half lidded eyes. Over the clink of glasses and porcelain, he's certain he can hear the creature murmuring formula in Miriel's ear. Stahl is managing the counter today, though he keeps glancing outside the window to the stables; Anna installed it when she hired him and Sully, so their horses could stay close within sight, even as they work.

Chrom finds himself smiling at them, returning their waves when they offer them. He wouldn't be surprised if Anna sends one of the regulars over-

"I don't get it. Why are you back here, after yesterday?" Comes a soft voice at his side. He looks up to see Robin, her grip tight around a serving tray. This time she manages to place the cups on the table, all without spilling a drop.

"Well… Curiosity, I suppose. You should know something about being curious as a cat, considering your daemon."

"…Grima." He starts, as the daemon provides its name. It's not common for daemons to speak to another human; there's a faint echo of Robin's own voice from the cat, just sounding a touch more masculine. Robin seems startled as well, staring at her daemon.

Grima looks straight back her, pupils narrowed to slits. There's a small, unspoken debate that seems to pass between the two of them, human and daemon matching wills.

"He wanted to know about us. Maybe we should indulge him." The cat continues. "We could use a friend after-"

"Stop." Robin cuts the daemon off, clapping a hand over his mouth. But Chrom still stares at her, as does Naga. Under so many eyes, she can't seem to keep her mouth shut, and the words finally spill out of her.

"…Okay." She sighs out. "Seeing as we're strangers here… We COULD use some help." Naga huffs at that, already knowing that Chrom is intrigued. And that he isn't about to turn his back on Robin since she needs aid.

"So you aren't from around here?" He presses. "A-are you from Plegia?"

She shakes her head at that, almost hesitant to meet his eyes.

"…Further than that." Robin tells him, and he doesn't miss the shiver working through her limbs. "I… Don't remember much." She tells him, and he can see the way her eyes narrow, and how Grima gives a matching bristle, all the hairs on the cat's back standing up. He half reaches out to Robin, brushing their fingers together. Naga matches that, reaching out and giving Grima a quick lick across the top of the head. Trying to sooth the both of them.

"…What I do remember is snowy fields. And a strange, iron fortress. And…" She trails off, shutting her eyes. Her shudders get worse… And her hand reaches out for Grima, only to bump against Naga instead. Chrom freezes, his lungs feeling like they've been turned to ice. Robin goes shockingly pale as well, realizing what she's done-

But even through the shock of contact, the sudden breach of accidental touching, Chrom feels and sees something else. Like a memory that isn't his own has jumped into his head, and plays out in front of his eyes.

Robin's descriptions come to life, and he sees snow blasted fields and blackened skies shrouding an area; this is a place further than Ferox, a place where the sun seldom rises or pierces the gloomy, snow choked skies. But even more foreboding is the strange tangle of pale glass and dark stone, rising in severe and sharp angles from the ice. To make up for the black skies, a dozen artificial lights illuminate the grounds and shine like lanterns through barred windows. Looking almost like a prison.

Someone or something pulls him in, amidst the swirling snow and into the buildings. Inside is just as cold as the outside, the stone walls and hints of strange, glaring glass all mingling together… Until a sudden, sharp glare cuts the blurred hallways together.

The glare shines bright, turning into something sharp edged and standing between him and… And his daemon, he realizes with a horrible lurch. He can hear Robin's voice, screaming to be let go, to let her get back to Grima… And there's such an intensity in her voice, such a ragged shriek, that he can feel his own throat ache, as though he's shouting out just as horribly… And still, despite the screams, that sharp edged thing rises up, its edges gleaming almost too bright to look at.

"You're to be part of something greater. A part of the Magisterium." Comes a sharp voice, sharp as the set of blades hovering in his vision. The blurry scenery snaps into focus just long enough for him to realize what he's seeing; Robin and her daemon, pulled apart to their limit, while a horrible blade rises between them before preparing to snap down-

And then just like that, the vision cuts out, and he finds himself gasping and staring back at Robin. Somehow still with her daemon intact, with everything that's happened to her… But also in flux, unsettled.

"We'd be unsettled too, if that happened to us." Naga manages to break the silence with a low growl. Chrom's eyes dart around, but no one else seems to have taken notice of them. The warmth of the coffee shop is a stark contrast to what he just witnessed.

"You…" Chrom finally manages to gasp out, only the lack of breath keeping his voice low. "You haven't told anyone else about this, have you?"

"Wh-why would I?' She shoots back; and even with the trauma he just saw, it's clear that it hasn't completely crushed Robin. Not with the defiance blazing in her eyes. "So I'd be seen as crazy? I have enough difficulties as is."

"You'd have worse if the Magisterium overhears you." Chrom hurriedly tells her, pitching his voice low. "They don't have a lot of patience for heretical ideas… And they'd have even less, for a LIVING borderline heresy."

He swallows hard, before gathering his wits back up.

"…But. You did pick a good place to run to. Ylisse isn't strictly under the heel of the Magisterium yet."

"Who…?"

"…Guess that… THING in your mind messed with your memory. They're the supreme spiritual authority, that governs all the kingdoms." Chrom tells her. "Or advises them, in our case. We've been lucky to have my sister- I mean Emmeryn's guidance!" Chrom tries to change his wording, but a little too late; with the way Robin stares at him, she realizes just who it is she's talking to.

"You know… You're looking like you could use some coffee, more than me." Chrom finds himself saying. Trying to hold off any shouted revelations, that might tip anyone else on who he is. "My treat?"

Robin gives a hesitant nod at that; better than running away at the very least. Or spilling another drink onto his lap.

-o-o-o-

He certainly hadn't been planning on ground breaking revelations, when all he wanted was a cup of coffee. With all that, Chrom hopes he can't be blamed for wanting to step outside, and clear his head. Naga follows alongside him, tail and hackles still all bristled.

"…How could that happen? How could anyone live through that?" His daemon barely manages to snarl. Chrom can only shake his head, trudging from the shop and along the street. He can't quite deal with the commotion of the crowds, or the rumors of the Magistreum-

' _Knowing what they did. They somehow sanctioned torturing people like that, trying to cut them away from their daemons…'_

He ducks into a side street, tracing his hand along the glass of Anna's shop. Soon enough he moves past the windows, into the twisting streets of Ylisse-

Naga gives a sharp snarl, his only warning that something is amiss. The next moment, a lean dark shape slams into Naga, sinking fangs into the side of her neck and shaking back and forth. Chrom can barely make out a jackal, as he feels pain bloom along his shoulders. The sudden shock of the attack drops him to his knees.

And he crashes completely to the floor when a cudgel slams into his ribs. He wheezes, twists around to catch the weapon before it can land again… And sees a wild eyed man on the other end. The stranger is framed by red hair and has a hungry look to his eyes.

"So you're our escapee's little friend." He hisses. "You want to tell us where she is-? Or do you want to see how fast Averse can tear out a wolf's throat?"

Through the pain clouding his eyes, he makes out fine clothing on the man, spun from cashmere… Things restricted to the ecclesiastic circle.

"You're… A magister?"

"Oh, they pay me well enough, to be their hunting hound. And they'll pay me better, when I find the lost bird-" Chrom is losing his strength under the man's grip, and he's certain Naga won't keep her throat intact for long… Until a sudden roaring, snarling shape slams into both daemons.

Chrom finds himself gasping for breath, staring as a tiger rakes claws over the jackal's dark form, staining the streets with scarlet. The jackal gives a pained howl, equal to any of Naga's cries, and for a moment Chrom can taste and smell blood through Naga's senses. And that drives Chrom to try and lurch upright.

He struggles to find his feet, knowing he needs to get out of the alleyway. If he collapses here, he's fair game for the Magisters, or just succumbing to his own injuries…

"Keep your eyes open!" At first he thinks he must be hearing Naga, pleading for him to stand again… But there's something wrong with the voice. It's more masculine than his Daemon. Chrom works his eyes open, trying to focus them as he claws his way forward; maybe he'll somehow managed to blunder into a stranger-

Instead his eyes open and fall on the tiger looming over him. The great cat has an odd silver tinging its fur. And as it seethes and spits over the magistrate's twitching body, the tiger seems to diminish, shift down… And becomes a familiar looking gray and smokey cat.

"G-Grima…?" He whispers. A chill works his way down his back; because he knows that Robin isn't anywhere in sight.

"Robin's close by, just hurry! Get up!" Naga rushes under his arm as he tries to pull himself up… And with a sudden shiver he feels another touch, under his other arm. Grima looks almost like a lion, as he helps Chrom stand. And the daemon doesn't flinch from his touch; and Chrom desperately needs the extra strength, pulling him up and helping him along.

-o-o-o-

He keeps moving, knowing that there has to be more of the Magisterium on the way; ready to pry Robin's location out of him... Or use him as leverage against Emmeryn.

' _There were rumors in the court. That they're looking for anyway to pressure our kingdom…'_

"And you'd make a fine hostage." Naga finishes his thought.

Until they thankfully empty out of the alleyway. He can hear the gasps of civilians, seeing the blood on him and the daemons. His back bristles, as he tries to get back into the safety of the coffee shop… And that's when he hears the shouts behind him. More Magistrates, and he doesn't know how he'll fight them off. All he can do is stagger through the doorway-

"On the floor, please!" Robin's voice greets him, with enough snap to it that he instantly crashes down, chin scrapping against one of the rugs. One of the Magistrates burst in close behind him… Only to back off with pained shrieks and howls from him and his daemon. He looks up, to see Robin holding a half emptied coffee jug.

"Hot coffee to the face. It's more effective than I thought." Robin murmurs, staring as the Magister goes staggering and screaming back.

"Well, we're running out of brew! Probably should leave now." He hears Anna say, thudding the empty coffee pot down as Robin hauls him upright. Grima claws up Robin's back, shifting from snarling tiger to bristle tailed housecat in a blink.

"Okay people! We finally get to use our routine!" Anna calls out And to Chrom's shock, the other coffee shop staff spring to attention. Some of them go to the old coffee maker, pulling parts off it and replacing it with others, while overhead the cloth ceiling seems to almost seethe, breathe… And then expand.

With a start, Chrom realizes he's looking up at the canopy of an airship.

"You… You're telling me you kept this thing working-?" Chrom gasps out.

"Hell yeah she did!" Sully says, guiding her and Stahl's horses into the shop, keeping her hands gingerly on the reign's of Stahl's daemon. "Never know when you need a quick escape route, when the Magisterium decides they want to make war with a kingdom… And pick a fight with the prince."

"P-prince!?" Chrom sputters. And as the airship yanks itself up, he's pretty sure he leaves his stomach on the ground.

"I… I thought you swore you wouldn't tell!" He gives Anna an accusing glare, his frown only deepening when she shrugs it off.

"And I kept my promise. I never told anyone… But that didn't keep them all from making their own educated guesses."

"Unbelievable…" Chrom groans, while Naga gives a sharp bark of a laugh. Apparently his disguise skills aren't quite as good as he'd hoped. "Well… At least tell me someone here knows how to fly an airship."

"N-not exactly." Sumia speaks up at that, the dove on her shoulder nervously fluttering its wings. "But my mother worked as an airship pilot, and I learned everything I could from her. So… If you don't mind, I'd like to take the wheel. And get us out of here."

Chrom can only stare at that, before giving a hesitant nod.

"Better than crashing." He tells Sumia, and watches her take the wheel. He risks a glance out the windows, to see the city falling away from them as the airship rises up into the sky. And while he's flown on airships before, it's still a strange sight; he can't stop looking around the canopy, staring as it transforms before his eyes, from shop to ship.

Robin can't seem to stop staring, either, it seems.

"I… Seem to have brought a lot of trouble into your life." She murmurs at last.

"Well… There's not a lot of love lost between us and the Magisterium. And apparently they have a lot of skeletons that need to be unearthed." He looks to her, while Naga gives a soft grumble of agreement. "And if we can keep you out of their grip, and show what they're doing… Then all the better."

Before, he's only been able to see Robin as a little broken, a little unsure. But standing there in the airship, he has to revise that. He's never seen someone so strong… And Naga seems to have no problem with brushing against her, both to assure her and maybe even draw some strength from her.

"Thanks…" Robin murmurs. "I… I'll figure out a way to make this up to you."

"Well, if there's still a working coffee machine, I wouldn't say no to another drink." Chrom tells her, and gets rewarded by a laugh and a nod.

"Certainly… And I'll try to avoid spilling it in your lap this time." Chrom gives a sharp laugh at that, echoing Naga's own barking voice. It's been a while since he's laughed, he has time to think; and the same seems to be true for Robin, with how her eyes go wide.

And as it turns out, Robin has a gift for being a barista after all. Even it turns out that her best environment for making and serving coffee is onboard an airship. But as it turns out, she can brew his favorite drink, as they sail off into the skies.


End file.
